My Commensal
by ShatteredLyre
Summary: -Snapshots of raw and unashamed love, even if the person happens to be your exact opposite- 14. Let It Be: Because, in all honesty, the world is a pretty terrible place. Especially if you could see ghosts. But hey, at least you still have each other.
1. Unaffected

Pairing: Anna/Yoh

Words: 449

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**commensal**

She kept repeating this word over and over in her head, its three syllables ricocheting around the walls of her mind like a severely screwed up game of Pong gone wrong.

_Screw_. She laughed. _As in what he's going to be doing to me in approximately two min--_ the latter tail of her thought was cut short as he moved his mouth to the pale column of her neck. _Christ._

**commensal: (noun)**

She hadn't bet on this. He was the lazy one. The laid-back one. The calm one. Never would she have imagined that he wanted....wanted whatever _this_ was so badly. And yet there they were, barely separated from the rest of the residents of the Asakura household by a mere sliding door, full on doing everything but the deed they had both thought about endlessly but never had the knowledge or expertise to actually execute it.

**commensal: (noun)** **1. a ****participant in a symbiotic relationship in which one benefits while the other is unaffected**

Her nails clawed into his arms as he clumsily tried to remove his shirt with one hand, his lips never leaving hers. _Unaffected_. That's what he had thought of her all these years. Or at least, that's what she had assumed.

**commensal: (noun)** **1. a participant in a symbiotic relationship in which one benefits while the other is unaffected****;** **2. a being that has (or can develop) the ability to act or function independently**

Well, to be fair, she had also assumed that she had taught him to be less dependent on others. But how wrong was she. As his rough hands (courtesy of her training regimen) traveled to the small of her back, she realized, like a cold slap across her sweating face, that she was totally and irrevocably dependent on him. Which would explain so much.

**commensal: (noun)** **1. a participant in a symbiotic relationship in which one benefits while the other is unaffected****;** **2. a being that has (or can develop) the ability to act or function independently****;** **3. an individual occupying the same area as another individual that has markedly different values or customs**

So many had thought that they were too dissimilar. That they would've fallen apart chaotically before the wedding even happened. She remembered Pirika's nonchalant _Well, some things aren't __**supposed**__ to go together sometimes. They're just...too different...y'know? _which was accompanied by a shrug.

But look at them now.

**commensals**

If that's what they were, then so be it. What mattered was that he was hers and hers alone.

He looked at her, uncertain of what to do. _A-Are you sure...you want...to..._

She stared up at him, his face the only thing in her sights right now.

_**my**_** commensal**

_Yes._

_

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_

**A/N**: fun little drabble-esque thing to write. so i suppose this will be the chapter 1 of the standard collection of short ficlets every author has here. theme of this collection? commensal! as in snapshots of interactions between two people who are markedly different. mostly going to be AnnaYoh I suppose.

Reviews are love. Also wouldn't mind if you would post some ideas in your reviews! I _will_ dedicate the chapter to whoever posts a good idea. =) Happy days


	2. Critical Condition

Pairing: Anna/Yoh

Words: 456

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"Er, Asakura…" Dr. Tao tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

"What can I help you with, doc?" Yoh rubbed his latex gloved hands onto his scrubs, smiling.

The green haired woman was clearly uncomfortable. "Um…patient in 207 refuses to be attended to." She adjusted the clipboard she was carrying, her mouth pressed into a straight line.

Yoh blinked. _This is a first. Tao asking for help. Asking a lowly nurse too!_ He laughed inwardly at the prospect of the proud doctor who refused all offers of help every single time during all nine years of Yoh's stay at Funbari Hill Hospital. "Um…"

She looked away. "She won't take her meds, she refuses any treatment, and she turns away all food. She hasn't eaten in forty-eight hours."

He cocked his head. "And…what do I have to do with it?"

Jun clenched her teeth momentarily. "She won't let anyone attend to her…except for you."

"What?"

"She always asks for you." Jun furrowed her brows.

Yoh leaned onto a nearby desk as she passed him the patient's clipboard. "Who exactly is in 207?"

"A girl named…" She looked down at the file. "Kyoyama. Anna Kyoyama. Familiar?"

He paused and then shook his head. "I think that I kept her company once when Pirika was off duty…"

Dr. Tao shrugged. "Regardless, get to it, Asakura."

He nodded and disappeared into the elevator.

"So…Anna." He looked down at her file. Schizophrenia. Bouts of seizures provoked by strong emotions. Critical condition. "I hear you're not taking your meds? And not eating?"

The frail girl remained silent in bed.

"You need to do both if you want to get better." He walked over to the chair near her bedside and sat down, hunched over as he clasped his hands together in front of him.

"I don't want to get better."

He frowned. "Why not? If you get better then you can go home."

She stared out the window, the back of her head towards him. "Exactly."

He scooted closer to her, his concern now piqued. "Are you having problems at home, Anna?"

He heard her sigh. "I ended up here…like this…because of the people at home." She turned towards him, allowing Yoh to see her face for the first time. "You were the first person to treat me like…a person," she said, her voice even keel.

"What do you mean?"

"Even the nurses and doctors here treat me like I'm some kind of specimen. You…" She turned away from him again. "Talked to me."

"Anna…"

She looked at him unflinchingly, her body seemingly too delicate for the sheer determination in her eyes.

"Please let me stay here…with you," she whispered as two birds flew from the tree outside her window.

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**A/N**: now that i think about it...this would actually be a really fun story to write haha. tell me what you think? =) i love reading your reviews! also, if you're enjoying these little shorts so far, consider checking out my full length stories.


	3. Quite the Contrary

Pairing: Anna/Yoh

Words: 393

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"Hrmphh." Hana cocked his head and reexamined the blank paper in front of him. "Hrmphhhh." He closed his eyes and shoved his notebook away. "Hrmphh!"

"If you sigh one more time, I will sew your mouth shut," Anna Asakura (née Kyoyama) remarked, not bothering to even look up from the book she was reading.

Her son merely flinched, already immune after ten years of constant threats from his mother but still not foolish enough to ignore her comments.

"What's eating you, Hana?" Yoh called from the stove as he boiled some tea.

He flexed his legs under the table and yawned. "Well, for homework, Miss Jun wants us to write a history about our families, starting with our parents. And I didn't know where to start so I went up to the attic to find some documents or albums or somethin' but…all I found was this." He pulled out a yellowed newspaper clipping and tossed it onto the dinner table.

Yoh padded over to where his wife and son were sitting and Anna craned her neck forward to read the faded 'UNEXPLAINED DAMAGE TO MT. OSORE REGION' that blared from the headlines. "I never heard of this at school before…." He shrugged his shoulders and pocketed the old article. "Eh…it probably doesn't even have anything to do with our family." Yoh and Anna shifted uncomfortably

The boy rested his head on his hand and chewed the end of his pencil thoughtfully. "Say, dad, how did you and mom even meet?"

"Er..."

Hana frowned, obviously not pleased with the response, and looked to his mother instead.

"It's not that interesting. Or important." She sipped the freshly made tea Yoh had set out on the table, causing her son's frown to deepen even more as he realized Anna wouldn't reveal anymore than that.

But Anna and Yoh exchanged looks, a small knowing smile on her face, a sheepish grin on his, as they both knew that the way they had met was far from uninteresting or unimportant. Actually, it was quite the contrary.

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**A/N**: I'm pleased to say that _this _short is a preview for a much longer one-shot I have in mind called _The Villa_ (as seen on my profile page). But more importantly, _**I have indeed** **turned the previous short story (Critical Condition) into a full fledged multi chapter story**!_ I will be releasing the first chapter the first day of December to celebrate my favorite month (and favorite holiday…Christmas!). yay for Christmas fics. Review? =) send me some looooove, guys! and if you have any requests for me, feel free to PM me


	4. First Present

Pairing: Anna/Yoh

Words: 586

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"Matamune!" Yoh hurtled down the hallway as fast as he could when he saw the cat.

"Hello, Yoh. You are looking very…scared today." The cat amusedly observed the young boy.

"Kino just told me that it's White Day today and I don't know what to do…" His voice trailed off thoughtfully. "And grandma and Anna are stopping by real quick later today."

Matamune nodded understandingly. "Ah, yes. You have a fiancée now. Whatever are you going to do?"

"That's what I was going to ask you!" Yoh looked like a wilted flower. "I mean, do you think she expects a present? What do I get her? What if she gets mad I got her one? But wouldn't it be worse if she got mad if I _didn't_ get her one? Do you think she'll murder me in my sleep?"

"So many decisions for a ten year old boy to make." The cat smiled. "If I were you, I would get her one."

"Okay!" Yoh went back to his room. And then Matamune heard a shriek. "I-I-I don't have any money left." Yoh stared incredulously at his piggy bank. "What do I do?" The boy had turned white as a sheet as he looked to Matamune for answers. "She's going to kill me. I'm too young to die!"

"Well, perhaps you can find something around the house you can give her. White Day presents do not always have to be store bought."

"You're right!" Yoh exhaled in relief and relaxed.

Several hours later, Yoh and Matamune collapsed. "I can't…believe…all we…found…was _this_." Yoh stuck his arm straight up in the air, his hand securely clamped around a rectangular piece of red silk. "What am I supposed to do with _this_?"

The door suddenly swung open and Kino Asakura entered with one solemn looking girl. "Hello, Yoh. Anna and I are just here to pick up a few things." As his grandmother exited into the kitchen, Anna turned her icy cold gaze upon him.

"Er…h-h-hi, Anna," Yoh awkwardly waved at her.

"What do you want?" she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Huh?"

"You obviously have something to say to me. So just spit it out already." She narrowed her eyes. "Or else."

"Um…since it is…White Day and all…and it's tradition to…you know…uh…"

"So you have a present for me, is that what you're trying so hard to say?" She rolled her eyes and shifted so that she was leaning against a wall.

"Y-Y-Yes. So uh, I got you this." Yoh was just plain flat out _terrified_ of her. His hand was shaking so violently that he almost dropped his gift twice. He held it out to her.

She stared down at it as Yoh was left to fear for his life. "You got…me…a piece of cloth…for White Day?" She snapped her attention back to him. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Luckily, before anything drastic could occur, Kino came back and with that, the two ladies left.

"What a disaster…" Yoh hung his head and went back to his room to mope.

Little did he know, every single day ever since that one White Day, Anna had worn the red scarf around her head from the moment she woke up to the second she went to sleep. She was never seen without it. It was, after all, the first present anyone had ever given to her.

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**A/N**: 1. if you haven't seen yet, I've published _The Villa _(a longer one-shot based on the scene that I wrote in the previous chapter--Quite the Contrary--so you guys can check it out! definitely something much different than what i usually do)

2. be sure to look out for _Critical Condition _which i will be posting on December 1!

3. just a little fluffy piece of Yoh and Anna as ten year olds. figured it was about time to see them as kids =) Reviews? I think for the next Commensal short, I'm going to take a short break from Anna/Yoh and do one about a different pairing. so which one should i do first? I'll let you guys, the readers, decide! here are the choices:

JunPailong

RenPiri

HoroTamao

LysergJeanne

yup, these are my OTPs. i don't really write anything else besides these -___- sorry.

don't forget to review (and include which pairing you'd like to see next in your review)!


	5. Creative Differences

Pairing: Pirika/Ren

Words: 1,229

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**commensal**

She bitterly kept repeating this word over and over in her head, as her heels clacked on the cheap white linoleum Chocolove had ordered in a couple of months ago.

**commensal: (noun)**

She hadn't bet on this. So what if the piece she had been assigned was meant for two columnists? She was tired of the people thinking she was incapable of doing everything. Tired of how they'd smile like they were patronizing her when they thought she was way in over her head. Tired of how they'd assume she only got her job because she was a pretty face and the sister of Horohoro Usui ("Horohoro _freakin'_ Usui!"), regional star journalist extraordinaire. Tired of how she'd have to explain that _no, _she actually graduated at the top of her class from the university and her writing portfolio was legitly kick _ass_.

Mostly she was tired because she already had a feeling she'd do most of the work in the piece while whoever she was assigned to (most probably male) would get credit for it regardless (_and_ have his name printed first in the author's section! Curse her last name starting with a U!)

**commensal: (noun)** **1. a participant in a symbiotic relationship in which one benefits while the other is unaffected**

Her hand angrily clawed at the metal doorknob to Chocolove's office. Her section editor of the paper she worked at smiled at her from behind his desk sheepishly.

"Er, hey there, Pirika—"

"_NO,"_ two voices said simultaneously, horror evident on their faces.

Pirika froze halfway down into her seat as soon as she saw who else was in the office with her and Chocolove. "_Anyone_ but him. Seriously, I'll work with the _janitor_, just not _him_."

Ren (of Tao fame—his sister had also become moderately well-known for her articles back in the day) stared back at her. "I could say the exact same thing about you, Usui."

She blatantly ignored him and turned to the editor who sat there, quite unsure of what to do. "Seriously? Why, oh _why_, would you pair me up with _Tao_? We're the two most different writers on the whole staff!" Ren made some sort of choking, disgusted noise beside her.

Chocolove sighed and folded his arms across his desk to level with them. "Honestly, the only reason I even considered giving this assignment to anyone else other than Anna and Yoh is because they're off getting married at the moment. And you and Tao are the next best writers we have. I don't know why but I thought that you two would actually complement each other quite nicely when collaborating on this piece." He studied both of them. "Your reactions are telling me otherwise."

Pirika nodded enthusiastically while Ren looked at her lazily. "Doesn't matter to me. I just need one more piece with my name on it and then I get a promotion." He stood up. "Good day."

Pirika stood up, clearly outraged. Again, she was getting the short end of the stick. If he just needed to slap his name on an article, he was sure to not put in any work and just get credit while she would do all the research and writing by herself. _Again_. But this time, she was essentially doing all this work, doing the entire article so that _he_ would get a promotion while she was unaffected?

She wouldn't stand for this.

**commensal: (noun)** **1. a participant in a symbiotic relationship in which one benefits while the other is unaffected;** **2. a being that has (or can develop) the ability to act or function independently**

"_Tao_!" She marched out of the office, fully intending on giving him a piece of her mind. "Come back here."

He whirled around and put his face mere centimeters from hers. "Just to be _clear_ and so I don't have to repeat myself again in the future, I am quite able to do this by myself. Independent. Solo. Understand? I don't…_need_ you."

She scoffed. "Excuse me? I can do this all by myself. In _half _the time Chocolove's giving us." She glared at him.

"Fine by me." He disappeared into Yoh Asakura's office—the editor-in-chief at the _Tokyo Shooting Star_. After a few minutes when she swung the door open, he was gone.

"Tamao!" She went over to the desk of Yoh's secretary. "Where did Tao go?"

The confused secretary blinked and held out the piece of paper. "H-He filled this out and gave it to me and…and then he left."

Pirika read it out loud. "Names: Tao, Ren and Usui, Pirika; Title of article: Massive Damage to Mount Osore Region; Reason for Discontinuing Partnership: creative differences." She stared at the paper. "'_Creative differences'_?! The hell is that supposed to mean!"

**commensal: (noun)** **1. a participant in a symbiotic relationship in which one benefits while the other is unaffected;** **2. a being that has (or can develop) the ability to act or function independently;** **3. an individual occupying the same area as another individual that has markedly different values or customs**

Around the office and even to the readers of the _Shooting Star_, Ren had become known as Mr. Cold Hard Facts. He was efficient and thorough in his investigative work and presented all the needed and necessary information to his readers in a no nonsense, cut the crap kind of way. Pirika on the other hand was Little Miss Style. She focused mainly on the way that she wrote, making sure that she engaged her readers and kept them entertained.

"He's just all content and no form!" she seethed to Tamao during their lunch break.

"She's just all form and no content!" he growled to Ryu at the water cooler.

**commensals**

A few months into the assignment, Pirika had had enough of working by herself and approached a rising young investigative journalist…exactly what she needed for the piece. "Hey, Lyserg."

The boy grinned at her. "Hello, Pirika. What can I do for you?"

She blinked and smiled, happy that someone was finally listening to her. "I was wondering if you could help me out here a bit…"

"You're working on the Mount Osore series, right?" She nodded. "We could discuss it over lunch, if you'd—"

_**my**_** commensal**

"I'm sorry, Diethel, but Miss Usui already _has_ plans for lunch."

She whirled around to come face to face with Ren who looked like he was about to explode. "_What_?" she demanded.

He seized her by the wrist and walked away out of earshot of everyone else.

"If you're going to be the way too perky investigative partner," he growled at her. "You're going to be _my_ way too perky investigative partner. _No one_ else's." He shot a look at a bewildered Lyserg. "Even if those other people happen to be attractive, young imports from England."

"I beg your pardon?" Her face was beginning to heat up for some reason. _Out of anger. Yes, that's it. Out of anger_.

His eyes locked back onto her. "You belong to no one else, but _me. _Creative differences or not."

She could only gape at him as he adjusted his tie and strutted away, head up and pride intact.

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**A/N**: for those of you who missed it, _The Villa_ was published a couple of days ago. Check it out! =)

Oh. Wow. That was a long shot. more than a thousand words oopsies haha. but i couldn't stop building up this new alternate universe. i'm very much tempted to make this into a full fledged fic of its own. i really am. but i already have too many planned stories lined up! oh dear =( so this little story is to celebrate a little burst of RenPiri fics that i've been coming up with: _The Mismatched Adventures of Tao Boy and Ainu Girl_ was posted yesterday. I'll be publishing _The Heavy Hearts Brigade_ sometime this next week. And after I'm done with _Yoh and the Oni_, I'll be starting _The Emperor and I_ (if you're interested in any of these, go to my profile page for quick summaries of each story!)

PS Reviews are love, people. They truly are =)

PPS next commensal on the list: LysergJeanne. the short i wrote is so fluffy and sweet, i think i got a couple of cavities from reading it over again. then it'll be back to our regularly scheduled program of YohAnnaYohAnnaYohAnnaYohAnna, etc, et al. so sit tight.

PPPS **Animewitch17**: nope, i'm not a doctor...yet. I do plan on going to medical school though in four years time =) and AU is how I roll.


	6. Part Time Saint

Pairing: Lyserg/Jeanne

Words: 1311

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**commensal**

He kept repeating this word over and over in his head as he puffed out his chest, intending on walking like that from the school's front gate all the way to his classroom. Halfway through his trek, he already began to feel self-conscious about how silly he looked but kept going, motivated by the knowledge that _she_ would be there when he entered.

_She_. _Jeanne D'Fer of France_.

He smiled as he neared the top of the stairs of the building his class was in. He loved saying her name like that. It sounded so elegant. So noble. So refined. Everything Jeanne D'Fer of France was. Everything Lyserg Diethel wasn't.

**commensal: (noun)**

He hadn't bet on this. Usually, Lyserg would be just content hunched over his desk, praying that his teacher wouldn't call on him to answer a question or read a passage out loud. Not that Lyserg was a bad student. Quite the opposite actually. He was at the top of his class, got the best marks and loved learning. Rather, he was just painfully, painfully timid.

But then she came along. Jeanne D'Fer of France with her kindness and compassion towards everyone, even Lyserg who many of the kids had pegged as anti-social. He found her to be incredibly strong because every day she put on a brave face, ready to face whatever challenges fate chose to throw at her.

She did this because she was in a wheelchair.

So when Miss Jun looked around the room and thoughtfully tapped her lips with her pointer finger and called on Lyserg, who in all of his ten years of existence had never talked to a girl, to help Jeanne around the school, he wasn't sure what was going to happen.

**commensal: (noun)** **1. a participant in a symbiotic relationship in which one benefits while the other is unaffected**

Well, what _did_ happen next was that little Lyserg developed somewhat of a _crush_ on Jeanne D'Fer of France. Even though his heart flipped around like an acrobat every time he said good morning and wheeled her from class to class, there was always a tinge of sadness pulling at him. He realized it was because no matter what Jeanne faced in her life, no matter how many mean-spirited comments she accepted with a smile, no matter how many rude stares she got, she was still so much better than anyone else. She was a saint, she was untouchable, she was Mother (freakin'!) Teresa with silver hair in a wheel chair and frilly skirts. She would be unaffected no matter what.

And how could Lyserg expect her to be any different when she learned of his frivolous feelings? He was just a mere human boy after all.

So he would reap what he could and secretly stole the benefit of being around her and, most importantly, kept his feelings to himself.

**commensal: (noun)** **1. a participant in a symbiotic relationship in which one benefits while the other is unaffected;** **2. a being that has (or can develop) the ability to act or function independently**

As they went from one room to another, it slowly dawned on Lyserg one day that in no way, shape or form was Jeanne dependent on him. Or anyone. Or even her wheelchair. Heck, if Jeanne didn't have her wheelchair, she could probably still find some way to go to school.

She cheerfully said hi to anyone and everyone in the hallway. Lyserg could see, as he shrunk back in the shadows behind her, that their days had visibly improved after the sweet young girl bid them a good morning or a good afternoon.

She was, as they say, _very_ independent.

**commensal: (noun)** **1. a participant in a symbiotic relationship in which one benefits while the other is unaffected;** **2. a being that has (or can develop) the ability to act or function independently;** **3. an individual occupying the same area as another individual that has markedly different values or customs**

He didn't know how she did it. Actually, scratch that. He didn't know how she put up with him. Hao, feeling particularly mean one morning (probably because Yoh had beaten him to riding the good bicycle to school that day), had just called Jeanne every name in the book. And by name, Lyserg meant degrading catcalls concerning her disability. She took it all with a smile and shrugged it off, patting her wheelchair and affectionately calling it "The Ol' Iron Maiden" (because that's what Jeanne does. She finds the humor in any situation—_insert lovelorn school boy_ _sigh_—and turns it around).

Then when Hao, bored because he failed to elicit a desirable response, turned instead to the "cripple's helper" who was "so whipped" that he had nothing better to do than "wheel her around all day like some lovesick puppy." Lyserg bowed his head. Hao, on a roll now and being egged on by some of his friends, went below the belt: he sneered, asking Lyserg where mommy and daddy were now to help him. He paused in mock thought and said that he had forgotten that Lyserg's parents were _gone forever_.

A loud slap rang through the classroom they were all in and everyone gaped. Because during Hao's taunting of the other boy, Jeanne had been slowly rolling over to him. And when he crossed the line, Jeanne gave him a well deserved slap across the face.

Jeanne D'Fer of France: part time fifth grader, part time saint and savior.

Lyserg Diethel: full time coward who couldn't even defend himself.

**commensals**

That's what they were, he discovered, when he finally looked up the term in the dictionary.

When she wheeled around to face him after that encounter with Hao.

She told him to never, _ever_ let anyone talk to him like that. To let anyone treat him like he was less than he was.

"Because," she whispered, as her eyes filled with tears. "You're so much, Lyserg. You don't even know it yourself." She nodded as she wiped away her tears. "You're going to be something…something great one day. I just know it. So don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Why…" He clenched his fists and his entire body began shaking. "Why do you continue to put up with me. You're so…so…_good_ and perfect and nice and strong and…and…" His voice dropped. "And I'm just me."

Without him noticing, she had scooted forward and taken both of his hands. "That's precisely why. It's because you're you. You're Lyserg." There was a gentle smile on her face. "And I happen to like Lyserg very much."

_**my**_** commensal**

That's all what really mattered. Not the fact that Jeanne and Tao Ren had been engaged to be married since birth. Not the fact that she was in the process of being adopted by a man named Marco and would go back to France in a few months. What really mattered was that she was _his_ commensal. And no one else's.

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**A/N**: they're so adorable, i just can't help myself (another long-short story)

**ANNOUNCEMENT**: in the interest of time and providing you all with quality, prompt updates, I've decided to only sporadically update _My Commensal_ and _The Mismatched Adventures_ and put _Camera Obscura_ on hiatus and won until _Critical Condition _is done (around late December). This week, it looks like I'll only be able to update _Critical Condition _tomorrow and sometime later in the week since I'm seriously inundated with work. Sorry guys =(

Review and make my day! =)


	7. Happy Anniversary

Pairing: Anna/Yoh

Words: 484

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"You forgot didn't you?" Anna glared down at her husband's passed out form, picking her way through the empty sake bottles that littered the floor around him and his idiotic friends.

"Hurrnhh?" was the only eloquent reply she was graced with.

"You forgot. You knew how much this meant to me and you still forgot. You still planned your little…_reunion_ on the most important day of my life," she sneered. When he didn't respond, her breathing grew ragged, unable to believe his impudence.

"You are—" Her foot suddenly came flying down as she crushed one of the glass bottles under her heel. "It's…" She ground the glass shards into the soft plant fibers of the floor mat. "It's that night before you left for America all over again…"

"Anna…" he drawled, half-sober.

"No excuses!" she snarled, whipping around and kicking him in the back. "You promised. You always make promises but you never keep them. You promised I would be Shaman Queen, you promised you wouldn't lose, you promised you wouldn't forget—" Her foot flew forward and connected with his chest.

And then there was a sick crunching noise of plastic being broken.

"Ow…"

She slowly unclenched her fists and blinked several times in confusion. "What…what was that?"

He mumbled something and reached into the front pocket of his jacket.

"What did you say?"

"I said 'Happy anniversary.'" He extended his hand and offered a crumpled mess of plastic, silicone and paper before nursing the blows she had inflicted upon him.

She dumbly looked down at what he had given her. _Awayaringo's Greatest Hits_. "Her limited edition CD…" Or what was left of it. She had broken the casing with her kick earlier, creating a spider web of cracks over her favorite enka singer's ghoulish face. "How…did you…remember…" Her voice trailed off before she snapped out of it. "What kind of anniversary present is this? It's broken!" she accused, full well knowing that she was the one who had cracked it.

"I'm sorry…I'll do better next time," he responded, also full well knowing that it was her fault (but full well knowing that it was best to shut up and let her have her way).

"You better. This is nothing but a piece of trash. It's going in the garbage," she huffed before turning on the heels of her feet and strutting away as indignantly as she could.

As soon as she was alone in her room, she rushed to salvage whatever she could of the broken CD. The CD of the singer that had brought them together twelve years earlier on that one day that meant so much to her.

She impatiently flipped through her daily to do list and brought out the schedule for tomorrow and proceeded to cross out the training regimen and chores she had planned for him.

"Happy anniversary, Yoh."

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**A/N**: yay, now THAT'S more like it! 484 words! so now we're back on track with more AnnaYoh shorts (and they're seriously short this time...i swear =P) but now _My Commensal_ is on hiatus...for REAL this time until _Critical Condition_ is finished. just felt like taking a teensy break after I had written half of chapter 5 for _Critical Condition_ =) hope you enjoyed this! reviews are, and always will be, love.


	8. Bad Romance

Pairing: Anna/Yoh

Words: 2036

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"Excuse me? Hello-ooooo?" A blue haired girl waved her hand in front of Anna Kyoyama who was too busy restocking shelves to notice any customers in need. "Do you work here?" the girl asked.

"No. I don't. I just enjoy wearing very realistic replicas of the nametags of the employees who work here. And restocking the romance section's shelves. It's my favorite pastime," Anna conveyed to her in a no nonsense manner.

"Oh." The girl stared back at her. Anna could've sworn that when she looked into the eyes of the inquiring customer, she could find no signs of remote intelligence. "Sorry, I thought you worked here."

Anna had to bite her tongue to keep herself from screaming. She took a deep breath, did a couple of the tranquility exercises her manager Ryu had showed her before, and repeated verbatim what all the bookstores employees were trained to say: "Welcome to Matamune's Book Nook. My name is Anna. How may I help you today?" she rattled out mechanically.

"Ohhh…So you _do_ work here." Blue haired girl nodded understandingly (if not quite belatedly) and wagged her finger at Anna as if she had caught her with her hand inside the cookie jar. "Um…" The customer looked up at the ceiling and tapped her lips with her pointer finger. "What was I looking for again?" She brightened up. "Oh, yes. Do you carry _Creative Differences_. You know, the romance novel by Marco D'Fer?"

_Of course, I know it, you airheaded ditz. I work in the goddamn romance section and Creative Differences is one of the bestselling trashy novels that I have the displeasure of restocking every other week here._ "Yes. As a matter of fact, I do know it. The one where the female protagonist meets a man and after the standard, canned bickering, love-hate relationships, she realizes that he's the love of her life. But before they have their happily ever after, she discovers that he's a married man with a child. And then some other stuff happens and then in the end she winds up with him and everyone is blissful and joyous somehow. The end." Anna ran her tongue over the back of her teeth in annoyance. "That the one?"

"Um…yeah. Do you have it?" The girl twirled a piece of her hair around her finger before blowing an obnoxious bubble with her gum.

"It's right behind you." _And all several dozen of all the copies we have take up an entire wall. You would actively have to _not_ be looking for it in order to not find it._

"Oh! It is." The girl smiled sweetly at her. "My name's Pirika—"

_Oh dear _God. _One of those…_ "Don't tell me, Pirika. You've read this novel over a dozen times before over the past couple of years or so."

The girl nodded.

"And the first couple of times is because you legitimately enjoyed it. And then you began realizing with each subsequent reading, with each well weathered page you turned that you _identified_ with the funny, bold, loud, headstrong protagonist." Anna swept through the aisles of books, not bothering to look at the customer or check if she was following. She didn't because she had hit the groove, the moment in every case she had when she just outright _knew_ the exact reason why the customer came in looking for a certain book. "And the man that you're seeing… he somehow, _somehow_ fit the bill as well of the leading man: the initial acerbic, biting attitude, the irresistible charm, the cold exterior but you know that he's knee deep in love with you." As she walked up to the cash register, she finally looked at the other girl who currently had an awestricken expression written across her face. _Bingo._ Anna internally smiled. "And now you're shit out of ideas on what to do so you turn to…" She held up the small, compact book and tapped it unforgivably on the cover twice with the sharp edge of her nail. "Marco." She swept the so-called novel over the barcode reader, tossed it into the smallest plastic bag the bookstore provided, and lazily punched in a few keys on the register with fierce accuracy. "745 yen."

Instead, 10,000 yen was slammed down in front of her. Anna looked up, half-amused.

The girl's eyes were threatening to spill over and Anna seriously did not want another Niagara Falls crier breaking down. Last time, she had spent all of her lunch break forcing herself to appear as if she actually cared about his or her personal life. And even that consisted of awkwardly patting the customer at random intervals and saying "There, there" from between her clenched teeth.

But then again. 10,000 yen.

"Please…Please help me…I don't know what to…to do!" Pirika blubbered. "I will give you 10,000 an hour if you give me any advice!"

Anna sighed. If she somehow drew out her little pep talk with blue hair girl here, Anna would make almost as much as two full weeks of straight up work in only three hours.

"Fine. I'll help you with your…issues after my shift is done." Anna picked out the cost of the book from the wad of cash the girl had thumped down on the counter and smoothed it out and stuck it in the register. "Which is approximately in one hundred twenty-seven minutes from now." She shoved the receipt into the bag and half-heartedly tried giving the girl the excessive amount of change. "Thank you for coming into Matamune's Book Nook today. We hope to see you again soon." She plastered a fake sunny smile onto her face, speaking noticeably louder as Ryu walked by on his rounds.

The girl closed Anna's hand around the remaining money. "Keep it. Please."

"Okay. Pirika. I will meet you in that sad excuse of a café that's next door—"

"Silva's Café?"

_I wasn't finished talking._ "…Yes. That would be the one." She tried speaking with an air of secretive urgency, as if their plans and dealings were the most important, most confidential thing in the world. And only this so called "Pirika" and Anna had knowledge of it. _To give the subject…I mean, customer, a feeling of being wanted and appreciated again._ "Now go, before anyone sees you."

Pirika nodded and grabbed her purchase, the plastic bag flying madly about her wrist as she ran out of the bookstore (or "ran," more like it, considering her range of motion and her maximum speed were limited by the fact she was wearing rather tall heels). So all in all, Pirika shuffled madly, intensely away, her heels clacking and clicking in rapid succession like gunfire she was trying to escape from, one hand clutched to her hair and the other clasped around her purse.

"Well, you handled that rather well," a voice laughed from behind her.

Her eyes went wide and she whirled around. "_What_." She came face to face with a very calm, relaxed looking guy, his long brown hair held back by a pair of obnoxiously orange headphones. "Excuse me?"

"I said you handled that rather well." He pointed a book at her. "It was pretty funny."

"Why are you behind the counter? This is only for employees." She shooed him away furiously until he was on the other side of the counter.

"Sorry. I saw that the book I was looking for was there."

"You couldn't find it anywhere else in the store? So you decided to jump over the counter which you should not have any access to in order to get the copy that was returned…" She studied him coldly. "Are you that lazy? Or perhaps you do not know how to ask for assistance or know what genre your book is which I find to be impossible considering that you knew which book you needed or you don't know how to use a search engine." She tapped her finger against the computer next to the register to illustrate her point. "It's quite simple. You just type in the name of the book. Or the author. Or a keyword. Or perhaps you don't know how to spell or type."

He smiled and laughed again. "You're feisty." And he slid the book across to her to purchase it. "And as a matter of fact, Matamune's only has one copy of the book."

She narrowed her eyes, the gears in her head beginning to turn. She picked up the book. "_Complete Collected Works of Catallus_." She fought the tug at the corners of her mouth that threatened to make her smile or smirk at the very least. "Oh, Catallus. Haven't seen you for a while." She drew out every word in an attempt to buy herself more time to discern why anyone would actively seek out Catallus' poems.

"So…"

"You're a professor." She glared at him as if accusing the customer of his profession.

"Er…?"

"A scholar."

He shook his head.

"This is a gift for some sort of academic."

He cocked his head to the side. "No, it's for myself…"

"Arrogant and self-presumed avant-garde college student."

"I'm a business major…?" he said, trying not to smile

"Minor in classical studies?" She studied him. "Comparative literature?" She shook her own head, already knowing that that wasn't quite right. "Anthropology?" She frowned. "Human development?" She drew her brows together. "Linguistics? With an emphasis on cognition and society perhaps…" Anna clenched her teeth. "International studies in literature, linguistics, sociology—"

"No, no, and no." He laughed. Was he mocking her?

"Philosophy."

"Okay, whoa. I'd never take…do I look like I would minor in philosophy?" He leaned forward to rest his weight on the counter. "And I'll be paying in cash."

Her hand twitched as she was jolted back to the reality that he was, indeed, a customer, and she was an employee who should have rung up his purchase eight minutes ago. "That'll be 2500," she said emptily, still trying to figure him out.

He handed her the money. "Music minor."

She placed the exact change in the register. "What?"

"I'm a music minor." He tapped the headphones around his neck as if it were an obvious giveaway. "Name's Yoh Asakura. Yours?"

"Thank you for coming into Matamune's Book Nook today. We hope to see you again soon." She handed him the plastic bag with the hardbound book of poetry inside.

"Oh, come on."

"Welcome to Matamune's Book Nook. How may I help you today?" She tossed her hair over her shoulder as she wound her way from behind the counter and back to the romance section.

"Hmm, well first off, _Anna_…" He cleared his throat, trying not to laugh as she blanched and looked down at her forgotten nametag that had been attached to her shirt the entire time. "I'll be coming in over the next few weeks to look up some critical sources on Catallus so…I choose you!"

"Hmph. I only help customers whose IQ levels are above 2." She rolled her eyes.

"You looked pretty keen on helping blue hair bubble gum girl earlier," he countered.

"Point taken. But still. No."

"Or maybe you're just saying that because you work in the romance section and aren't that knowledgeable about Catallus? In that case, thanks for being honest and knowing that you aren't the best person for the job."

Her jaw dropped. "_Excuse_ me? I'll have you know—"

"So about three-ish tomorrow? It's a date!" He clapped his hands and began walking backwards away from her.

"Don't ever say that again." She angrily exhaled again, hands on her hips until he was long gone from the store. "Wait a moment, I never found out why he bought that book!"

* * *

**A/N**: sooooo. I'm turning this into a full-fledged fic. Be on the look out for it! Review?


	9. Waiting

Pairing: Anna/Yoh

Words: 1,467

* * *

It started with the bandanna. Well, how could Yoh say that? It could've started with the wind or the split second of wide eyed terror that flashed across her face. Or it could've started with the fact that they were both next to the river. But then that always leaves how he was honest-to-goodness, head over heels, completely, absolutely, irrevocably, very, super, insert any other adverbs and adjectives that a twelve year old boy would know, _in like_ with her.

Evidently, Yoh had yet to discover the term "in love with." Evidently.

All differing initial points of the story aside, the only thing that Yoh knew was that whatever happened, happened. And that it left him soaking wet from the soggy brown spikes on the top of his head that were now currently drooping like the wilted flower he felt like at the moment, to the orange plastic headphones around his neck that his father had sent him two birthdays ago, to the soaking white shirt and dark green pants that Keiko swore to her son made him look just the _teensiest_ bit taller, and of course to his bare, shivering feet that he was currently digging into the ground so as to avoid looking at the girl in the eyes. The very angry girl who was fuming before him and was 93.7% most probably trying to explode his brain with her mind through her intent stares.

Oh, _boy_.

They both waited in silence before she quirked an eyebrow and shifted her weight to her left foot. She cleared her throat loudly. "Well?"

Yoh had been so busy staring that he had completely neglected to answer her question. "Oh! Um…" He scratched the back of his drenched head. "What was…the…question…again?" The last word came out as a squeak.

She cracked her knuckles. "I asked, 'What do you think you're doing with my bandanna?'" Her fingers had long ago been balled up into menacing looking fists. "I'm _waiting_."

_If only grandpa had focused more on teaching me self-defense than yappering about summoning leaf sprites…_ Yoh wailed inwardly. "I'm-sorry-I-just-thought-that-maybe-I-would've-been-able-to-save-it-before-the-river-washed-it-away-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-Pleaase-don't-kill-me-I-haven't-even-been-to-a-Bob-Love-concert-yet!" he burst out, saying all of his apology in one breath and mid-bow towards her as he offered the sopping wet bandanna towards her. "I won't ever do it again! I swear!"

"You don't think that I would've been fully capable of fishing out my bandanna from the river by myself? This isn't the first time it's been blown away from me and it certainly won't be the last—"

"B-But you looked—"

"No interrupting!" she barked. "What did I look like?"

Yoh was going to say scared but decided against it. "Nothing," he said quickly. He tried offering the red bandanna out to her again so that she could take it and leave and thus, put an end to yet another failed attempt at trying to get Anna to like him. Or, you know…_not _hate him for once.

"No." She picked up a nearby branch from the ground. "Place it on here."

"What the…why?"

"I refuse to let any possibility of you touching me exist. Look at you, you're all dirty and muddy." She sighed. "It's going to take me forever to clean you off." She jutted out the stick at him when she saw that he wasn't going to move on his own accord. "I'm _waiting_."

Yoh found it funny that she said it would take forever for her to clean Yoh off. For the past twelve years of his life, he had been perfectly able of cleaning himself off (and in some disastrous cases, his mother or Tamao would help. But never Anna). Still, he kept his mouth shut. Yoh pathetically and ashamedly shuffled forward and placed the bandanna on the stick.

"Hmph." And with that she turned around and strutted away.

Ponchi and Conchi came out of nowhere, not even making the effort to conceal their obnoxious guffaws and barks of laughter. "Aw, man, Yoh! Ooh…" Ponchi wheezed. "That must…" He couldn't even continue his sentence without bursting into gut-wrenching chortles.

"That must've _hurt_, man!" Conchi finished. "They don't call her the _Ice Queen_ for nothin'…right, Ponchi?" But the tanuki spirit was too busy crying from his laughing fit.

"Thanks, guys…" Yoh mumbled, not in the mood to talk to either of them and _certainly_ not in the mood to return back to the Asakura household for the huge New Year's party his mother was hosting. He stuffed his hands down his pockets and began walking back to the house, thoroughly disheartened.

"Eh, lighten up kid. I mean, you use the same plan every year since you were ten and it still hasn't worked! You always hide behind that tree over there waiting for when she's done walking around the grounds like she does every time she comes here for New Year's…and hope and pray the wind will blow her bandanna into the river! Do you really need to jump into a _river_ to be able to have somethin' to talk about? Why don't you try _talkin'_ to the gal instead? You two only see each other once a year anyways!" Conchi offered, almost uncharacteristically helpful.

Yoh instantly became suspicious. He stared at Conchi until the rude kitsune began cracking up again.

"Oh, I can't do this anymore. If you try talkin' to her, she'll bite your head off!" the spirit said, slapping his thigh in amusement. "I'd know, since I'm all psychic and mystical and stuff!"

Ponchi had somehow managed to stop his laughter and now focused his attention on his partner. "What? What is this crap yer talkin' about? You're not psychic!"

"Then how come Tamao can tell the future with us, huh?"

"Pshh, you don't need to be psychic to know Anna will chew anyone out who tries to talk to her!"

"Oh, shut it. Anyways, Yoh…Yoh?" Conchi looked around. "Hey, where'd the kid go? I coulda sworn he was here a second ago…"

* * *

_Ten Years Later_

"You've…got to be…kidding me!" Yoh Asakura exclaimed as his head bobbed up and down in the water.

"Yoh, get out of there! You're making a scene," Anna hissed.

He obediently complied, shaking his long, wet mane of hair behind him. "Sorry, Anna. I wasn't able to save it this time…"

"And yet you still have been able to retrieve my bandanna every other time over the past ten years…" she mumbled. "Yoh, I already told you. I'm perfectly capable of saving it by myself."

"But you weren't even moving after it flew into the river—"

"_I'm perfectly capable of saving it by myself_."

Yoh opened his mouth to protest again but then it dawned on him (finally). "Oh…You _wanted_…to lose your bandanna...all this time."

"Good job, Sherlock!" she snapped. "I've been waiting for years for that thing to get lost."

"But…why…You always wore it though."

"Do you remember when we first met?" she asked as she disapprovingly looked her soaking wet husband up and down.

"Yeah, we were ten and I went to Mount Osore to see you."

"Did I have my bandanna back then?" she asked as if she were speaking to a child.

"No…" _Huh, that's right. She probably got it in between I left her in Osorezan and when I saw her in the hospital three years later…_Yoh's eyes lit up as he realized the answer. _The bandanna must have reminded her of the time when we were separated! And she was alone. That must've been painful. That's why she couldn't throw it away but still wanted to get rid of it. It's like she wants to get rid of a painful memory but knows that it's important to who she is. _"Anna…"

"Yes…" She looked sadly at the ground.

He reached forward and patted her on the arm.

She swatted his hand away and continued. "Kino gave me that ratty old thing to wear and told me she would give me extra chores if I threw it away. I've been waiting to get rid of it for _years_." She pounded her fist into her other open hand. "Now I can tell her that I '_lost_' it." Anna turned deviously towards her husband. "And there's been this headband I've been coveting for the past spring season. I expect you to buy it for me. I've waited long enough." She grabbed his hand and began marching him towards the mall.

Yoh sighed but something kept telling him that his explanation was the real one. He inwardly smiled, knowing finally for once that he didn't have to wait anymore for the day Anna would stop hating him.

Hopefully.

* * *

**A/N**: pshh, yeah I'm such a SK nerd I remember the costume consistencies in the time skips! anyways, **PLEASE **read the new "story" thing I've posted called "Help Haiti!" It's for a great cause. LiveJournal is hosting a fandom auction where various artists and authors are putting up offers for bidders to bid on (ie: draw a portrait/write a story about the winning bidder's favorite pairing in a certain fandom) and the best part? all proceeds go directly to a charity that benefits the Haitian earthquake victims! even **I** put up a bid ;) please go read "Help Haiti!" and look at the links in the author's note at the bottom! your support, no matter what amount, will help! =)

_Critical Condition_ update soon! I'm almost done with the chapter!


	10. Still Bleeding

Pairing: Pirika/Ren

Words: 1,215

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"Ah, there! All bandaged up!" Pirika said, smiling as she patted down the last of the wrappings on the arm she was tending to.

"Thank you so much, Pirika," Chocolove said, evidently satisfied.

"Of course!" she exclaimed brightly. "It's my pleasure. Now, who's next?" She wiped her hands on her skirt, ready for her next patient.

"I am!" Ryu said, sprinting over to where she was sitting.

"Hey, I was next in line!" Lyserg called out.

"Guys, I was definitely after Chocolove," Yoh protested.

"Uh, she's _my_ sister, so she should be tending to be next!" Horohoro said angrily.

Pirika laughed. "Calm down, guys, I'll get to all of you! Just be patient, okay? Sorry I'm working so slow. Jun, Anna and Tamao are all out in the Village getting groceries." She bowed apologetically.

"What? No, don't apologize!" Yoh said.

"Yeah, it's not your fault," Lyserg added.

"We'll just wait our turns." Ryu smiled, flashing her a thumbs up.

After she finished tending to the last shaman she put her medical kit away. "Anyone want anything before I start helping out Ren?"

"Er, could I just get a glass of water?" Chocolove asked.

"Sure thing!" She bounced away downstairs.

"Jeez, guys, why were you all fighting over her? She would've gotten to you sooner or later," Horohoro grumbled suspiciously.

"It's because Pirika is so good to us!"

"Yeah, she really knows how to take care of a guy."

"And she's so happy and sweet and gentle and pretty—"

"Watch it, Ryu," Horohoro growled. "And Yoh, I don't think that Anna would be so happy if she heard you talk about Pirika that way."

He merely shrugged. "I'm a guy after all."

"She isn't _that_ special," Ren said in a monotone voice as he emerged from the backroom. "I don't see what all the fuss is about. You all are acting like little children, wanting to be coddled, when in fact, this room is filled with _top class shamans_," he snapped.

Pirika skipped back into the room. "Your water, Chocolove." She handed him the glass which he took gratefully from her. She stopped in her tracks. "Ren! You shouldn't be up! Your wounds—"

"Excuse me, _I'll _be the judge of what I should and should not be doing. Don't you dare tell me what to—"

"No. Go back to your room now," she said forcefully.

The entire room fell silent. No one had ever spoken to Ren in such a tone before.

"I _beg_ your pardon, you silly girl."

"I said go back to your room, _now_." She grabbed his wrist and led him to the door.

He was in such a state of shock at the way he was being handled that he showed no initial resistance. Only after she shoved him down on the bed and closed the door did he snap back into life.

"What do you _think_ you're doing?" he hissed.

"At the rate you're healing, or rather _not healing_, you're going to reopen all your wounds if you keep moving around like that!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with genuine concern as she took out salve and a fresh roll of bandages.

"I don't need your help. My injuries aren't even that grave. Don't you dare—" But it was too late. She had seized the hem of his shirt and yanked it up.

"Oh…my…" she gasped. Lacerations ran up and down his exposed back, more crusted blood than skin showing. Scraps of flesh hung in ribbons on his sides and bruises patterned his chest. Part of his enemies weapon was still wedged in between two of his ribs. Splintered yellowed bone stuck out from his front. She looked up at him, tears gathering in her eyes. "Ren…"

He pulled his shirt back down violently. "See…it's nothing…" he said quietly but forcefully. "I don't need you." He stood up suddenly and turned away from her. "I don't need anyone…" He lurched forward as his weakened legs were unaccustomed to handling such weight. Pirika reached towards Ren, trying to grab his wrist before he collapsed but he pushed her away, opting instead to steady himself by resting his hand against the wall. He bowed his head as he tried to control his ragged breathing.

As he heard her footsteps starting up, Ren had assumed that she was leaving the room. Instead, his eyes flew open as he was caught off guard when he felt her light touch on his back. Ren's breath caught in his throat as her fingers softly traced the ridges where skin turned into bloodied sinews.

"That's not true."

Her hands spanned the ridges of his fractured shoulder blades, lingering slightly over his fatigued raw muscles worn thin from the stress of battle. Her arms wove their way forward, her fingers then her palm resting on his face.

"Sometimes, you need other people."

She pressed gently against his the side of his face, guiding and turning his head until he was completely facing her. His arms instinctively fell by his sides as his body shifted to angle towards her. She reached up with her other hand, the tip of her finger running along a fresh cut on his cheek, admittedly the smallest, most insignificant injury he had sustained from the fight earlier. But this was the first wound that hurt when she touched it, causing him to clench his teeth and wince as the cut stung and burnt.

"You're still bleeding and you don't even know it."

Ren narrowed his eyes at her in confusion. As far as he was concerned, all his injuries had scabbed over by that point. "But—"

"Not physically, silly. In here," she said, tapping the skin over his heart. "You're hurting yourself and your spirit is bleeding and if you keep up this attitude it will never stop until there's nothing left of you…" she whispered sadly.

Ren's vision clouded over and the next thing he knew when he drifted into consciousness was that one of his hands had found its way to the small of her back, pulling her closer and the other was in the process of tilting her chin up towards him. He smirked as he realized that even that he was now thinking clearly, he had no intention of stopping. His face moved nearer to hers, closing any distance between them.

Pirika flushed bright red, her hand still upon the wound on his cheek.

"I…I…I can fix this!" she nervously exclaimed, breaking away from his grasp.

Ren blinked, slightly irritated that she had interrupted him in satiating his hunger for her. "What?"

"This!" She patted her hand somewhat painfully against the scratch, earning her a hiss from him. "I can…apply salve to it and it'll be healed up in no time!"

She backed away, getting the bandages and ointment she had tossed onto the bed behind them.

He covered his eyes with his hand in irritation, massaging his temple. "Aren't there bigger injuries of mine you should be attending to first?" he growled as he sat down on the bed, defeated.

"Little by little, Ren." She smiled as she began tending to him. "One step at a time."

* * *

**A/N**: RenPiri makes me so happy. aaaah! also, make sure to check out my other fics: _The Heavy Hearts Brigade_ (RenPiri) _Our Story_ (Yohna) and my new story _Europe Roundabout_! it'd be awesome if you left a review! :) happy days. also a few of my reviewers have asked to get to know me better! two suggestions: visit my fanfiction LiveJournal (link in profile) or ask to friend me on facebook! (i'll message you the link). :D


	11. Wedding Dress

Pairing: Anna/Yoh one sided (!)

Words: 5,320 (so much for being a short...)

* * *

Yoh closed his eyes, feeling the cool ebony of the piano against his cheek, not wanting to ever get up. His fingers instinctively slid down to the keys and he began playing, his fingers limbering up, his eyes still closed. Over time, he transitioned to something he had written back when he and Anna had been going out. _And now the wedding is today…_ Yoh thought to himself, allowing himself a small half-smile as he saw the scratches she had accidentally left when she had insisted on sitting on top of the piano that one time. He kept playing, lost in the music, and probably would've kept going until his dying day if it weren't for the seven alarm clocks he had strategically scattered around the small house so that he wouldn't, under any circumstances, be late for the wedding.

"Otherwise," he said, as he went around, silencing each of the ringing clocks and picking up the clothes he had set aside for himself earlier. "She would kill me."

"Okay." Yoh took a deep breath as he finished buttoning up his dress shirt. "You look fine. You're fine. Nothing's going to be different." He stared at his well-groomed self in the mirror and didn't recognize the man that was staring back at him. He sighed. "Who am I kidding? Everything is going to be different after today." He tried swallowing, the muscles in his throat already tense as hell. "Shit, why do I feel like this, Matamune?"

The cat meowed up at him as if to ask, _Well, what do you expect?_

Yoh smiled as he saw the dainty stitches of the worn out leather collar around the cat.

* * *

"_Come down here, you stupid cat!" Ten year old Asakura Yoh yelled from the trunk he clung onto for dear life. "Don't…Don't make me go there after you!"_

_The tiny cat merely stared at him before putting its head back down to sleep on the other side of the branch._

_Yoh sharply inhaled. "Fine, have it your way." He tentatively loosened his tight grip from around the tree and placed a shaky foot forward. "Hey, this isn't so bad," he said out loud confidently after a few steps. "I think I'm getting the hang of this." He looked up. The cat was well within reach. "Got you!" He grabbed the animal by the back of its furry neck. "Hah! You think you could outsmart—" Yoh chose to look down at this point. He froze. "When did…when did…when did the ground get so far?" He wobbled back and forth, becoming dizzy and disoriented._

_He shook his head. "Snap out of it! You can do this! Just one foot at a—"_

_Needless to say, since it _was_ Asakura Yoh after all, his foot slipped._

_It happened all too sudden for him to even scream or register what was going on. Somewhere between him falling out of the tree and hitting the ground, he remembered to clench his eyes shut. Thankfully, he ended up landing in a bush near the roots of the tree._

"_Oof." Yoh just lay there on his back, lights flashing before his eyes, thankful that he was alive. He held the cat up who blinked its sleepy eyes open and yawned. "See…what you…did." The cat meowed in protest before wriggling out of his grasp and darting away. "God…darnit." Yoh let himself regain his composure for a few seconds before getting up to chase his pet._

"_Missing something?" Instead of the kitten being halfway up the road already, it had been captured and appeared to be defeated in the dainty hands of a girl. Her eyes flashed accusingly at him._

"_Matamune!" He rushed forward and grabbed his furry companion from her. "Thank you—" His words were cut off as he finally looked a bit closer at the girl. She was absolutely beautiful. To ten year old Yoh, she was a veritable goddess. His sentence ended with a pitiful. wretched choking sound as his jaw was left hanging open._

_The girl stuck her nose in the air. "The name is—"_

"_Anna!" came a worried voice. "Anna, where are you?"_

"_I'll be there in a second, _mom_!" she bellowed back, her hands balling up into outraged fists, losing some of the mysterious grace and dignity she had been emitting earlier. She faced Yoh once more, her face reddening slightly. "My name is Anna. Kyoyama Anna."_

"_Kyoyama Anna…" Yoh repeated. _Kyoyama…why does that name sound familiar?_ he pondered. He suddenly remembered his parents nonchalantly telling him earlier that day that the Kyoyama family was moving in next door._

"_You should really get a collar."_

_Yoh blinked and his hands flew to his neck. "Wh-What?" Sure, the girl was pretty, but she was crazy._

_She scoffed. "Not for _you_, smart one. For your cat." She jutted a thumb to point at Matamune who looked absolutely appalled at the suggestion. "Seems he likes running away, given your clumsy tree scaling pursuit earlier."_

_Yoh mentally slapped himself in the face. _She probably thinks I'm a loser now…

"_Here." She slipped something off of her wrist and handed it to him. "Take it."_

_Yoh suddenly found himself in the possession of what seemed to be a leather bracelet. "But…what about when he gets bigger?" he asked._

"_It's adjustable."_

"_But—"_

"_Keep it. It's a present. Neighbor to neighbor, yes?"_

_He smiled, already heads over heels, knee deep, one hundred percent, bona fide in like with her._

_

* * *

_Yoh jutted his hands into his pockets, turning the ring of metal over in between his fingers. _The ring that was supposed to go on her finger when—_

He forced himself to laugh. "Well, it's too late to back out now…" He looked up at the lazy white clouds as they drifted across the sky, creating quite the pretty picture above the fairy-tale like church he was about to enter, the bright green trees in their summer glory and the colorful flowers out front, wedding guests in their formal attire, waiting for the couple to make their eternal promises to each other. He adjusted his tie as he bounded up the steps two at a time to the church, the ring still clasped in his hand.

He entered the hallway. "Mrs. Tao!" He held up his hand in greeting as the elegant lady sauntered over.

"My, my, Asakura. You're looking rather dapper today. But then again, this would probably be the only occasion you'd ever dress up for," she said, smiling smugly.

His face burnt up. "Eh-heh…right…" He didn't know exactly how to respond to her. But then again, he never really knew how to respond to her. Ever. "Have you seen Anna?"

"Why, she's getting prepared. She _is_ the bride after all." She sighed and tragically looked outside the window. "Men. They think everything is so easy on wedding days." She turned her gaze back to him. "What a big day for your families. The Asakuras and the Kyoyamas. How idyllically perfect. Started out living next to each other. End up living together. Cute." She gave a somewhat approving nod before walking to her seat. "Better get to your position in a few. You have the second-most important job."

"Al…right…Mrs. Tao." He waited for her to go through the large, ornate double doors before continuing. "Nice to have yet another good talk with you." He ran down the hallway to Anna's dressing room.

"Always in a hurry whenever I see you, Asakura." Anna gave him a knowing smirk as he skidded to a halt. She stood up from the lone bench she was sitting on.

"Of course. You wouldn't have it any other way though, would you?" he managed to say. She was absolutely breathtaking. Not that she hadn't always been. But in that wedding dress…

_That wedding dress…_ Yoh looked her up and down somewhat sadly. As beautiful as she was in her wedding dress, she no longer looked like the Anna he knew.

Pirika stormed out of the dressing room and cleared her throat. "Excuse me! No looking at the bride before the wedding!" She fussed over Anna before ushering her back inside the veritable hell hole of a room where all five of her bridesmaids and their mothers and what looked like every single female resident of Tokyo were busily preparing themselves. Before going back inside the room herself, Pirika hesitated, lingering a bit. She turned to Yoh but didn't look him directly in the eyes. "Good…luck….Asakura. You'll need it."

"I…uh…thanks?" he said, trying to keep a sunny look on his face.

She shook her head sadly and smiled. "I know what you're thinking. 'Will I regret this after it's over?' Right?"

"No…that's not…I wouldn't think…" Yoh stumbled.

"Oh come on. I know where you've been. Trust me." Pirika looked at him.

He sighed. "Goddamn, Usui—" he laughed.

"Shh! We're in a church!" she exclaimed.

He laughed once again before a serious look came across his face. "But…do you think…I'll regret it?"

She studied his face. "Do you love her? Do you really, truly care about her and love her and want to see her happy?" she asked slowly.

"You know that.… I just don't know if she does…" he said softly.

"No. I refuse to believe that. Everyone knows, everyone can _see_ that you love her. It's all over your face every time you see her, every time she comes into a room. Your face just lights up."

"I…I don't know…"

"Hush. Say it. Out loud. Do you love her?"

"Yes. With my entire being," he proclaimed firmly.

"Then you won't regret it," she said, smiling but her eyes were still sad. "Now go. You have the second most important job! The wedding can't start without you!" She hurried back inside the dressing room, having neglected her position as maid-of-honor for too long.

"Better get going," he mused as he saw the majority of the wedding guests filtering in through the doors.

* * *

"_You…wrote that for me?" Anna asked slowly from atop the piano._

_Yoh awkwardly put his hands down as the last note echoed softly in the room. "Er…yeah…" He coughed. "Did you…like it?"_

_She looked genuinely touched as she looked at the handwritten sheet music he had labored over for weeks. She ran a finger over the backs of his hands, making his breath catch in his throat, as she formulated her answer._

_She finally met his gaze. "No." She hopped off of the piano. "Too slow for my taste. And the random crescendos and decrescendos? Come on, we learned that our first week of music school here!"_

_He laughed, knowing that was her way of saying 'I loved it.' "Yup, I remember. Mr. __Umemiya. 'You canNOT just put in random crescendos and DEcrescendos on a whim! You canNOT!' Oh, that silly man with his silly accentuating of syllables."_

"_Ryu was quite the character," she agreed. Her eyes fell on a photograph hanging on the wall opposite of her. A rare smile graced her lips as she saw a young, smiling Yoh holding a very pissed-off looking Matamune with his new collar and standing next to Anna who was pretending to look like she didn't want to be there but actually did. "Has it really been ten years since we met?"_

"_Yes, it has. Ten, long, tortuous years of knowing you—"_

_She rolled her eyes and smacked him in the arm._

"_Just kidding. But we're twenty year olds, living in Tokyo, and going to one of the finest music schools in the country…and will probably end up as accountants or something equally as unrelated to music. Can you get any more starving artist than that?" he asked jokingly._

"_No wonder so many of our classmates are getting married. It's cheaper to have a spouse than to live on your own…" she said slowly, deliberately. One might call it borderline "hopefully" if they heard how she was dragging out every word._

"_Yeah…" Yoh forced himself to say. _Now, now, now, do it! You've been meaning to do it all this time!_ his inner voice yelled at him. Suddenly, the engagement ring he had been meaning to give her for the past six months felt very heavy in his pocket. "Anna… I have something I've been wanting to talk to you about for the past half a year or so…" He reached into his pocket._

"_Okay," she said, shrugging._

"_I was wondering…I mean, we've known each other for a long time and I was just thinking that maybe—" He clenched his teeth together in frustration as he instinctively reached out to answer the phone as it rang._

_Anna looked crestfallen. "You should probably get that…" she said quietly as she began gathering up her things._

"_No, no, no, wait, stay! __They can always call back if it's super important." As if on cue, the phone rolled over to voicemail, the caller hung up and redialed immediately._

"_Looks like it's super important," she said snippily. "You can always talk to me about this later." She swept out of the room and out of the house._

_He waited exactly nine seconds before speaking into the phone. "Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…" he moaned, slumping over on the piano bench. "Why. Why. Why. _Why._"_

"_Er, sorry. I'm guessing—"_

"_Yes, Ren, you interrupted _again_," Yoh complained into the handheld receiver. "What do you want?"_

"_Eh, I was just bored," he said. Yoh could imagine him shrugging it off on the other end of the line._

"_Just…Just bored—Okay, no, this cannot keep going on," Yoh stated firmly._

_Ren yawned. "You _do_ realize this is happening only because you are letting it. Just propose already."_

"_W-What?" he asked shakily._

"_And thus the indignant Asakura has been reduced to a stuttering fool. Propose. You know. Pop the question. Get down on one knee. Pull out the old ball and chain. Ask her to marry you, idiot," he rattled off mindlessly._

"_Are you joking?" Yoh managed to ask._

"_No. Are you? You've been carrying that engagement ring around with you for what, five months now—"_

"Six_ actually," he interrupted, sounding almost offended._

"_Just proves my point even more. Anyways, you've been carrying that ring around in your pocket for six months now. Don't tell me that you're planning on _not_ proposing."_

"_How can I? We've been on and off and I don't even know what we are at this point right now—" Yoh protested._

"_You're in love. Or whatever people call it nowadays. Isn't that enough? Or at least that's what popular literature, film, and media dictate… In any case, who says you have to be in a relationship to propose? Just do it and put yourself, and everyone around you to witness your sad excuse for a love life, out of misery already."_

_Yoh rolled his eyes. "Is that a suggestion or an order?"_

"_What do you think? It's _me_ you're talking to," Ren snapped._

"_Okay, fine, master," he said sarcastically. "And when do you exactly suggest I propose? I always keep getting interrupted one way or another."_

"_That's only because you let yourself get interrupted!" Yoh could imagine Ren scowling on the other side of the phone. "My engagement party is coming up in a few weeks. Do it then."_

_Yoh raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? You don't mind? You won't think I'm stealing the attention away from your own engagement if I propose?"_

_Ren scoffed. "As if _I_ would care."_

"_You sure have a lucky lady on your hands."_

"_She won't mind. Anyways, you had better do it then."_

"_Yeah, yeah…" Yoh sighed._

_

* * *

_Yoh gulped as he looked down the long aisle and watched the well dressed groomsmen and made-up bridesmaids, a sea of faces he knew so well, both sitting and walking. The flower girls and ring bearer waltzed down towards the altar. Ren as the best man and Pirika as the maid of honor walked down, arm in arm, looking the happiest Yoh had ever seen them. And then suddenly everyone grew quiet as the doors opened one last time. Every single person turned to look.

Yoh was only one of hundreds in the church who was staring at Anna but he knew that she was looking only at him. She was absolutely beautiful and she rolled her eyes at him as if to say _Look at what those crazy women did to me_ but he secretly knew that she was reveling in that moment, loving every second.

All of their relatives and friends were there. The color was the one that Anna had wanted for her own wedding ever since she was a girl. Her dress was custom made, following her own design down to the last stitch. The wedding day was in March, the sun outside was shining, the trees greener than ever, the flowers in full bloom. The limo was outside, prepared to shuttle the groom and bride to the reception where everything was exactly as planned. And most importantly, Anna was radiating with happiness, her joy evident all over her usual serious face. Everything about the wedding was just as Yoh had imagined, had dreamt of repeatedly since he had fallen in love with her so many years ago.

And yet, there was something still wrong with the entire picture.

Anna finally made it to the altar and turned to face her fiancée, her future husband and smiled. The priest adjusted his glasses and proceeded to conduct the ceremony.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate…"

* * *

"_Hmph. First and last time you'll ever see me forced into a fancy dress," Anna said dryly._

_Yoh laughed and caught her in a hug which she initially seemed to resist at first, if only to keep up appearances that she _was_ as cold as she tried to be. She gradually eased into it. "Pretty nice get up for Ren, huh?"_

"_Eh. Most blown up engagement party I've ever seen. But then again, it's Ren," she remarked._

"_Well, I mean, that lady of his doesn't expect or deserve anything less," he said almost mindlessly. "And now, for the belle of the ball…"_

_Pirika giggled as she approached the two. "Oh hush, Asakura." She twirled around, showing off her outfit. "What do you think?"_

"_Ren won't know what hit him when he sees you." Yoh grinned and flashed her a thumbs up. Anna nodded in agreement._

_She sighed. "Ah, just wanted to say hello." She smiled somewhat sadly. "Time for the most life changing day to commence." She drifted away._

_Anna shook her head. "Poor girl… God, why did she have to choose _Ren_ of all people? Ren! Tao Ren!"_

"_I don't think falling in love is a matter of choice…" Yoh mumbled._

"_What's wrong with you?" she asked bluntly._

"_Eh? Wh-What do you mean?" he asked shakily._

"_You've sounded so empty headed the entire evening," she remarked._

"_I…I just…Sorry." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly._

"_What's on your mind?" she asked, letting a glimmer of concern shine through her inquiry momentarily._

"_Noth…" Yoh almost said _Nothing_ but then remembered Ren's stern words. _There are no excuses now, aside from my own cowardliness, _he thought. "Anna, there's something I need to talk to you about."_

"_Okay." She spread out her arms as if to say _Finally_. "Go for it."_

"_No. Not here." He grabbed her wrist and led her to the more secluded hallway and settled near the stairs that lead back up from the basement to the first level of the Tao residence. "Listen…"_

"_I'm listening." She quirked an eyebrow, half-amused at the sudden display of boldness in Yoh's actions._

"_So…we've known each other for quite a while, eh?"_

_She blinked. "Yeah. Ten years would qualify as 'quite a while' in my book."_

"_So I've been thinking that…I mean, I've been in…with you…and…" Yoh shook his head. This was not how he wanted things to go at all. He stuck his hand into his pocket, fumbling with the ring in there._

"_Yoh…what are you trying to say…" she stated slowly and evenly as if trying to control herself._

"_I guess I just wanted to ask you…" He began to take the ring out. "I…I…Just…" He mentally kicked himself. "Anna, will you—"_

_

* * *

_"Kyoyama Anna, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

She could barely keep herself from smiling. "I do."

* * *

_Yoh could've sworn if it wasn't for the banister of the nearby staircase, he would've fallen after he heard that one word he had wanted to hear her say for so long._

"_Yes…You…you stupid…I'll marry…What the hell took you so long?" she demanded, but Yoh could still tell that this was the happiest she had ever been in the last ten years._

_Yoh couldn't say anything. "She said…yes. She said yes. She said _yes_." He wavered back and forth unsteadily as if in a daze. In all honesty, he had no idea what he had expected her to say. "I can't believe…she said yes…she agreed to get married…" He shook his head. "No, this can't be real."_

"_Hmph, and to think I never thought this day would happen…" Her voice drifted around him as his head was still in a haze._

Why is she acting like this? This isn't the Anna I know. Why is she like this? What happened to her? What _just_ happened?_ he thought desperately to himself. "She said yes…"_

_

* * *

_"And do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, Asakura…"

* * *

"_You know, you don't have to do this if you don't want to," Anna said suddenly._

"_Eh? What are you…of course, I want to do it. I'd love to do it!" he protested, plastering a smile on his face. "Why do you say that?"_

"_You just keep looking at my hand," she said nonchalantly, holding up her hand and pointing at the engagement ring on her finger. "I was thinking that maybe you were having second thoughts."_

"_Second thoughts? Never," Yoh laughed nervously._

_

* * *

_"Hao."

Yoh blinked as he was jolted back to reality.

"And do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, Asakura Hao?"

Hao smiled back. "I do."

"Then by the power vested in me…" The priest cleared his throat. "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

The church erupted into applause as Hao embraced Anna and kissed her long and sweetly. Yoh looked away, unable to bear watching his brother marry the girl he had been in love with for ten years.

His gaze fell upon Pirika who was sitting next to Ren, frowning. She offered him a half-smile and shrugged, sympathizing with him. She shook her head as she saw Ren turn around and whisper something to his wife. Jeanne giggled and prodded Ren to turn back around.

* * *

_She scoffed. "Not for _you_, smart one. For your cat." She jutted a thumb to point at Matamune who looked absolutely appalled at the suggestion. "Seems he likes running away, given your clumsy tree scaling pursuit earlier."_

_Yoh mentally slapped himself in the face. _She probably thinks I'm a loser now…

"_Here." She slipped something off of her wrist and handed it to him. "Take it."_

_Yoh suddenly found himself in the possession of what seemed to be a leather bracelet. "But…what about when he gets bigger?" he asked._

"_It's adjustable."_

"_But—"_

"_Keep it. It's a present. Neighbor to neighbor, yes?"_

_He smiled, already heads over heels, knee deep, one hundred percent, bona fide in like with her._

"_Jeez, Yoh, where have you been?" Hao yawned as he came out of the house. "Mom said to help the neighbors to—" He stopped in his tracks when he saw Anna. "Oh."_

_Anna's eyes widened momentarily and Yoh could've sworn that she began coloring as she averted her eyes sharply and looked at the ground. "H-Hi."_

"_Who's this?" Hao smiled warmly, a characteristic that Yoh had rarely seen before._

_Yoh furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously. _What's going on here…

"_This is—"_

"_Kyoyama Anna!" she blurted out. She shook her head as she realized the volume with which she had told Hao her name. She straightened up and held her head up high, assuming the mysteriously elegant demeanor Yoh had seen her with before. "My name is Kyoyama Anna."_

"_Well, hello there, Kyoyama Anna. I'm Asakura Hao. Perhaps we can be friends." He shoved his hands into his pockets before flashing her his trademark smirk. "Later." He shuffled away casually._

_

* * *

_"_Okay, fine, master," he said sarcastically. "And when do you exactly suggest I propose? I always keep getting interrupted one way or another."_

"_That's only because you let yourself get interrupted!" Yoh could imagine Ren scowling on the other side of the phone. " My engagement party is coming up in a few weeks. Do it then."_

_Yoh raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? You don't mind? You won't think I'm stealing the attention away from your own engagement if I propose?"_

_Ren scoffed. "As if _I_ would care."_

"_You sure have a lucky lady on your hands."_

"_She won't mind. Anyways, you had better do it then."_

"_Yeah, yeah…" Yoh sighed._

"_You don't sound so sure. What are you—" Yoh heard a door slam on Ren's end of the line. "And where the hell have you been? It's your turn to take out the trash," he said grumpily to the person who had just come into the room. "Eh, sorry, Yoh. Your brother just came back from God knows where… Some roommate he is," he grumbled. "I suppose I can't complain though. He _is_ the one throwing the engagement party for Jeanne and me."_

"_Wait, _Hao_ is hosting the party?" Yoh asked, surprised._

"_Yes. He just volunteered out of the blue. He probably has something else up his sleeve. Can't expect Hao to be that generous without some kind of ulterior motive."_

_Yoh could hear his brother laugh in the background, saying "I can hear you, you know!"_

"_Hmph, well, sorry about…" Ren fell silent. "Oh."_

_An entire two minutes of silence elapsed on Ren's end of the line. All Yoh could hear was Ren's muted breathing into the receiver._

"_Ren? Ren, what's going on?"_

_Ren made a noise that could only be described as a pained growl. "Hello, Miss Kyoyama."_

_Yoh could discern her mumbled response back to him._

"_Excuse me, please." Ren's footsteps echoed loudly and a door shut._

"_Wait, what's going on? Why is Anna over there? Did she…" he hesitated. "Did she arrive with Hao?"_

_

* * *

_"_So…we've known each other for quite a while, eh?"_

_She blinked. "Yeah. Ten years would qualify as 'quite a while' in my book."_

"_So I've been thinking that…I mean, I've been in…with you…and…" Yoh shook his head. This was not how he wanted things to go at all. He stuck his hand into his pocket, fumbling with the ring in there._

"_Yoh…what are you trying to say…" she stated slowly and evenly as if trying to control herself._

"_I guess I just wanted to ask you…" He began to take the ring out. "I…I…Just…" He mentally kicked himself. "Anna, will you—"_

_Someone thundered halfway down the stairs they were standing next to. "Anna! There you are!"_

"_Hao!" Anna dropped her smirking attitude and stared up at him in shock._

No, no, this can't…_Yoh squeezed his hand around the ring so hard that it left a deep imprint in his palm. _Please, don't tell me that—

_Hao bounded down the steps and grabbed her by the hand as if they did that all the time. "Excuse me. I'll just be a moment." He grinned at his brother and saluted him quickly before sprinting back up the stairs with a bewildered Anna in tow. They were out of sight but Yoh could still hear their voices clearly as if they were standing right next to him._

"_Anna, let's get married already, okay?" came Hao's carefree voice._

_Yoh could've sworn if it wasn't for the banister of the nearby staircase, he would've fallen after he heard that one word he had wanted to hear her say for so long._

""_Yes…You…you stupid…I'll marry…What the hell took you so long?"__" she demanded, but Yoh could still tell that this was the happiest she had ever been in the last ten years._

_Yoh couldn't say anything. "She said…yes. She said yes. She said _yes_." He wavered back and forth unsteadily as if in a daze. In all honesty, he had no idea what he had expected her to say. "I can't believe…she said yes…she agreed to get married…" He shook his head. "No, this can't be real."_

"_Hmph, and to think I never thought this day would happen…" Her voice drifted around him as his head was still in a haze._

Why is she acting like this? This isn't the Anna I know. Why is she like this? What happened to her? What _just_ happened?_ he thought desperately to himself. "She said yes…to Hao."_

_

* * *

_"_You know, you don't have to do this if you don't want to," Anna said suddenly._

"_Eh? What are you…of course, I want to do it. I'd love to do it!" he protested, plastering a smile on his face. "Why do you say that?"_

"_You just keep looking at my hand," she said nonchalantly, holding up her hand and pointing at the engagement ring on her finger. "I was thinking that maybe you were having second thoughts."_

"_Second thoughts? Never," Yoh laughed nervously._

"_All right. Well, if you're certain, then here." Anna reached into her bag and retrieved a stack of papers from it. "You'll need this."_

_Yoh took the papers from her and blinked dumbly at them. "What's…" He frowned as he saw notes, treble clefs, sharps and flats and bass clefs dancing in front of his eyes._

"_Sheet music for the wedding procession. You _do_ remember that you agreed to be the pianist for the wedding, right?" She slid her bag back onto her shoulder. "Or do you need me to repeat that?" she asked smugly, sarcastically._

"_No, I got it. I got everything under control," he lied._

_

* * *

_Yoh still sat at the piano bench, long after everyone had gone outside to see the bride and groom off to their limo. No doubt the guests, his family, his friends, were all at the wedding reception right now. No one would be wondering where he was.

Everything about the wedding had been just as Yoh had imagined, had dreamt of repeatedly since he had fallen in love with her so many years ago.

And yet, there had been something still wrong with the entire picture.

He wasn't the one facing her at the altar.

* * *

**_It should've been me. It should've been me._**

_

* * *

_**A/N**_: _super quick, here is the video this short was inspired by: www . youtube . com / watch ? v = qIt6KCwlFPw (remove spaces!)

WATCH IT. it's so good. it's my favorite. it is called "Wedding Dress" by Taeyang. but some of you already knew that probably. i hate song fics. i hate writing them. which is why i don't. BELIEVE ME I DO. but i couldn't resist. Wedding Dress is my favorite! D:

AAAAAAH my first HaoAnnaYoh. weird. I might expand this and turn it into a one shot laterz. apologies for the very belated post. i have started on the new Commensal chapter. yay!

READ IT AGAIN AFTER WATCHING THE VIDEO! okay?! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. again! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. i shall love you forever! :)

happy days to you all!

-SL

PS -Dodges rotten fruit- I suppose I deserve that; please don't hate me forever for making the twist HaoAnna! ):


	12. Lady

Pairing: Jeanne/Lyserg

Words: 1,638

* * *

"Now what is a fine lady like you doing out on a night like this?" Lyserg asked, keeping his voice low and unfaltering.

Lady Jun turned around and smiled. "Oh, Mr. Morphine, you never fail to surprise me." She stood up slowly, angling her body in such a way that she concealed the drill she was about to use on the safe inside the bank.

"Well, in the span of the few weeks I've gotten to know you…" Lyserg said confidently, striding over to Jun, "let me tell you that there is much more where that came from," he said, his tone even making himself blush at the sound of it.

"My, how forward of you," Jun gasped in mock embarrassment, quickly pocketing the drill and the floor plans of the bank. "Usually I'd try to find a way to get rid of pests like you but then again, the average lowlifes that bother me on a daily basis aren't nearly so handsome as you are."

"I choose to take that as a compliment." Lyserg smiled. "Now, what were you doing that would keep you up so late at night without any company? The streets of London can take advantage of such a pretty lady as you," he said carefully.

"Ah, well…" Jun studied his face as if trying to gauge his character. "How do you feel about money?"

"Money?" Lyserg asked innocently while making a mental note of her question. "I suppose that it does indeed make the world go 'round."

"And that one can never have too much of it." Jun threw her hair back teasingly.

"Yes, why not spread it around, not just let the fat cats of the industry hoard it to themselves."

"How would you, Mr. Morphine, like to help out with a heist?" Jun asked, trying to entice him.

* * *

"You!" she snarled as Marco and John pressed her face against the glass window of London's First Bank and handcuffed her. "You tricked me into this, Morphine."

Lyserg smiled sheepishly and shrugged pulling his cloak around him securely. He never did feel quite right without it. "It's Mr. Diethel actually. Lyserg Diethel."

Her eyes grew wide with recognition. "_Inspector_ Lyserg Diethel," she growled. "I'll never forget your face. I'll pay you back tenfold." They yanked her back by her handcuffs and led her away to a carriage.

"Hopefully you'll write from the women's correctional facility they're sending you to," he called out to her. He sighed.

"Welllll, _Mr. Morphine_, aren't _you_ the ladies' man?" came a teasing voice.

He rolled his eyes. "Pirika. Shush."

His personal secretary bounced in front of him, holding a sleek black leather notebook in her hands and hurriedly taking notes in it. "My goodness, you've bagged three in two weeks!"

"Put her down for larceny and embezzlement. She was leeching off thousands and thousands of pounds from her brother's white collar company and has been breaking into banks all over London," Lyserg dictated while Pirika quickly jotted down whatever he was saying.

They both boarded their own carriage. "Lady Jun…check!"

He snorted.

Pirika blinked. "What? What did I say this time that's so funny?"

"'_Lady_.' She is by no means a lady. All these female criminals that think they're some sort of romanticized, modern day 19th century Robin Hood in a skirt just by sticking the title of 'Lady' before their names." He rested his face on his knuckle and looked outside at the gray skies that perpetually hung over London.

"Then who do you know is a lady?" Pirika piped up.

"No one," he said absolutely.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Really? Is that so? Well, _I_ think that you know at least one lady…at least, one that meets up and possibly exceeds your expectations." She winked at him.

He internally groaned. "If you're talking about yourself, Pirika—"

She burst out laughing. "Oh, as vain as I am, for once I was not talking about myself. I am only eighteen anyways, hardly even within ten kilometers of being a lady." She regained her composure. "You know who I'm talking about."

Lyserg pressed his lips together, annoyed she had brought up his one weakness.

"Anyways, very impressive record so far. You bagged Lady Tamao—"

"If you will, 'Lady' Tamao—"

"Convicted of homicide. Owner of a relatively popular inn and she killed her victims, oh, excuse me, _male_ victims by using a one way vent and leaking poisonous gas into their rooms while they were sleeping."

He nodded. "It was rather impressive. The invention was quite ingenious. She designed it so that the vent will only transport the gas into their rooms without letting it escape into her own room."

Pirika gnawed on the tip of her pencil. "So she's brilliant. And she was also very refined, as all hotel hostess' should be. So how is she not a lady?" the secretary demanded.

Lyserg followed the dancing raindrops with his eyes on the window of the carriage. "All her victims were men because of irrational jealousy. She was tired of unrequited love of Asakura Yoh who recently got engaged to her arch-rival yet just as criminal '_Lady_' Anna so she decided to take it out on the entire male species." He exhaled loudly. "Though very clever, she lets her emotions take hold of her and make her act in a rather undignified manner."

Pirika shrugged. "Alright, fair enough. Then what about Lady Anna?"

"She is undoubtedly effective in her methods and just as intelligent as her rival. She was able to set up an entire network of unsuspecting middlemen to do the dirty work for her. However, she is too sloppy and too ruthless. She would've been the perfect criminal if she had been more meticulous in her methods." The carriage rolled to a stop.

Pirika smirked at him. "And here you are, _Mr. Morphine_, the perfect inspector. Use your _charms_ and your _dashing good looks_ to seduce your criminal suspects into a false sense of security, get them to trust you, and then _BAM!_ Next thing they know, they're getting handcuffed and shipped off to the closest prison." She shut her notebook closed as if to prove her point.

He reddened at the mention of his "charms" and "dashing good looks." "Oh, shut up," he muttered self-consciously. "You know that that is all an act. I'm much more awkward really." He drew his cloak around himself tighter in embarrassment. "And what's wrong with Mr. Morphine? I need an alias when dealing with these women."

"Yes, for the sole sake that you're so popular within the underground female criminal ring because of your _handsomeness_." She cackled, deriving pleasure from his obvious pain. "Oh yes, I was listening when Lady Jun was talking. I suppose that's why your specialty is dealing with lady crooks." She waved him out of the carriage. "It's because you're so damn good at it! Pity you're much more self-conscious, much more awkward and much clumsier in real life."

"None of them are _ladies_," he grumbled, walking towards his apartment.

"Oh, I forgot, the only lady you know is J—"

"Shut up," he snapped before his expression softened and he scratched his head. "Er, sorry, it's just that—"

She waved her hand at him to dismiss it. "I'm just teasing. And I know how you feel about her."

He entered his apartment and sunk into his living room couch. "What I would do for all these women to start acting like her. Elegant, refined, brilliant, subtle…" He paused and looked at a picture of the only lady he has ever known propped up on his desk. "Beautiful." He continued looking at the photograph. "The only woman and only person to ever outsmart me."

"Quite a feat in itself considering that you're the best inspector in all of London. And yet, the brilliant Lyserg Diethel can't remember to keep his dates in order," a soft voice said sadly behind him.

But before he could turn around to see who had somehow managed to break into his meticulously and carefully secured apartment, Lyserg found himself flipped onto his back onto the floor, his legs and hands bound together with rope in less than two seconds. "What in the name of—" His eyes widened in fear as the heel of a woman's boot came down clacking dangerously close to his face.

Lady Jeanne D'Fer:

- Twenty-two years old

- Sixty-three time criminal

- Pocketed more than one million pounds over a span of a year

- Stole seventeen priceless works of art from the biggest museums all over the world

- Brought to jail a grand total of eight times

- Managed to walk away clean from the prison in less than twenty minutes each time

- Engaged to Tao Ren

- Somehow eluded Lyserg's flawless plans the five other times which ended up with him almost drowning, almost taking a bullet, almost falling off a thirty-story building, almost getting eaten by a tiger, and almost suspended off a bridge by a rope.

- And the only lady who has managed to steal his heart.

"I was waiting an hour in the park for you," Lady Jeanne said sweetly and quietly as she walked towards the door, stopping momentarily to smile at the picture of her on his desk. "And I thought you knew that a lady should never be kept waiting."

* * *

**A/N**: oh yes, this was inspired by _Sherlock Holmes. _:) not much to say except to **please leave a review**, _Critical Condition_ update is coming up, and check out _Testimonies_.

Happy days! :D


	13. Recognize

Pairing: Horo/Tamao

Words: 3,505

* * *

"Got rejected at Matamune's, told me I couldn't play at the Onsen Diner, laughed at when I asked at Fire Spirit," Horohoro grumbled, lugging his guitar case up all thirteen flights of stairs, thanks to the perpetually out of order elevator in his apartment building. "Come on, it's not like I'm _that_ terrible of a guitar player!" he exclaimed, tossing his case on the ground and grabbing his keys from his pocket as he came to his door.

He kept fuming as he entered the small apartment and only began calming down when he opened the refrigerator. "Goddamn, after today, I barely have enough food left for the week." He pulled out a beer. "I seriously need to get a steady job."

"Or perhaps a large monetary gift?"

Horohoro paused and then nodded, opening the canned beverage. "Yeah, that could work too. Not to mention be pretty nice. Wait what the f—" He turned around, finally realizing that someone else was in his apartment.

Ren, his best friend for…God knows how long, waved back at him. "Hello."

"What the _hell_, Ren!" Horohoro screeched. "You scared the living shit out of me. And how did you even get in here?"

"Yes. Anyways…" Ren continued on, ignoring his friend's outraged question. "I need a favor."

"Oh good. I'm definitely going to whatever you asked now after you broke into my apartment and dismissed my questions," Horohoro said sarcastically, flopping into the chair facing Ren.

"I appreciate your sarcasm. Anyways, I need you to be me," Ren said casually.

Horohoro spat his beer out. "_What_."

"I…need you…to be _me_," Ren repeated slowly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Let me get this straight…You want _me_ to be _you_?" Horohoro asked.

"Exactly. Just for one evening. That is all." Ren clasped his hands in front of him, prepared to do business.

Horohoro groaned inwardly. Whenever Ren was ready to get down to business, there was no hope of refusing. The Tao man always got what he wanted. "What is it now…"

"My parents, always keen on matching me up with whichever rich heiress comes into town, have set me up on yet another unmanageably boring date with the daughter of one of their close colleagues…who apparently is the only one even wealthier than my parents are. So naturally they want me to actually make it work out with this girl no matter what," he explained.

"And you want me, the number one blasphemer in all things etiquette and manners related, to screw the date up so badly that it'll be beyond the point of salvaging, thus turning the poor girl off completely and giving your parents no reason to force you to go out with her again," Horohoro said mechanically, not missing a beat and quite accustomed to Ren's line of thinking after all these years.

"Exactly."

"Hmm…let me see…let me think about…Hmm…Huh…_No._" He glared at Ren.

Ren frowned. "Why not?"

"Well, first off, I don't think I could be that cruel to a girl I don't even know. And second, why are you assuming that I'm not busy that evening? For all you know, I might have a gig. And why don't you do it yourself? You're far from being the charmer you think you are. And she might recognize me," Horohoro protested.

Ren snorted. "Recognize you from _what_ exactly?"

"Well, I mean…I've been a musician for quite a while and maybe…maybe she's seen me at one of my gigs since you know…" he stuttered.

Ren laughed mockingly. "What are you blabbering about? When was the last time you even _had_ a gig?"

Horohoro crushed the can with his fist. "Shut up."

"Anyways, aren't you in need of some money? I do believe that your rent is coming up and you are behind on your electricity bill and it does appear that you need some money for food…" Ren said thoughtfully. "I promise to make it worth your while."

Horohoro rolled his eyes. "And how exactly are you going to—"

Ren, without saying a word, took a suitcase off the ground by his feet, swung it up onto the table and clicked it open, positioning it so that it faced Horohoro.

"Holy. Crap." His eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. "How…how…how did you fit so much money in there?"

Ren smirked once again, knowing that he had Horohoro wrapped around his finger. "So I'm taking that as a yes."

He groaned and smothered his face with his hands. "This is so wrong, morally, ethically—"

"So I'm still taking that as a yes."

"How is she?" he finally asked.

Ren shrugged. "It isn't going to be completely terrible. She's from France, plays the violin—oh, look, you both have something in common, you're both musicians. But she's the daughter of Marco, you know, the owner of X-LAWS—"

"Shit, man, she must be made of money."

Ren frowned. "I've heard she's more down to earth than the others. She's leaving soon anyhow. Hang-Zang Ching's. Seven o' clock."

_Well, I suppose they _are_ both heirs. They can afford the fanciest places. _"Okay. What day?"

"Tonight." And with that, Ren left one completely appalled Horohoro alone in the apartment.

**commensal**

She checked her hair. And then the time. And then her hair again. And then her dress. And then her purse. And then the time. And then her reflection in the perfectly polished spoon that the waiter had set out for her. And then—

"Hi."

Her eyes flew up to see a rather awkward looking man waving at her. Awkwardly. Can't forget awkwardly. "Um. Hello. Tao Ren?" She stood up hurriedly and curtsied, feeling very clumsy and out of place, especially in a dress. Especially.

The blue haired man nodded as if he had just realized something. "Yup, I'm Tao Ren. That's my name." He laughed uncomfortably. "Er, what exactly is yours?"

"I'm… Tamao," she said, still staring back at him, wondering exactly how again she ended up in this situation. Well, Marco was back in Japan. And as always, he wanted to send his only (adopted) daughter out to try to advance the company. A few twists and turns later, throw in Tamao's inability to say no, and that is how she sound herself staring at the infamous Tao Ren. "Do…do you want to sit down?" she asked after seeing that he had remained standing the entire time.

"Oh! Yeah, good idea." He hurriedly slid into his seat. "So, um…were you waiting long?"

"Not really."

"Okay." He drummed his fingers on the table. He hadn't been on a date. In a _long, long, long_ time. "So, er, how do you like Japan?"

He could've sworn to God that she giggled a little bit before covering her mouth with her hand. "It's nice. I like visiting new places," she said brightly.

"When are you going back to France?" he asked, running out of topics already to talk about.

"Tomorrow night. Didn't your parents tell you?"

"Uh, it must have slipped my mind." He grabbed a menu. "Do you know what you're going to order already or were you waiting for me to arrive? I mean, it's totally fine if you already ordered but—"

"Hmm?" Tamao, in all honesty, hadn't been paying attention to him. At all.

**commensal: (noun)**

_Oh damn, she probably doesn't know Japanese that well._ "Do…you…know…what…you're…going…to…order…?" he asked slowly, unwittingly talking as if he were speaking to a child.

She drew her eyebrows together a bit. "Why are you talking like that?"

"What…do…you…mean…?" he asked, still talking in an obnoxiously patronizing tone.

"Why are you talking all weird?" She frowned.

"That's how I normally talk," he said, embarrassment beginning to slap him across the face.

"No…you definitely were talking normally before." She clutched her purse to her chest, pressing her lips together firmly.

He sighed. _Well, at least Ren's getting what he wants. I'm seriously screwing this up. Big time_. "S-Sorry, I hope I haven't offended you but…It's stupid but I thought you'd understand me better that way."

"You're right." She tilted her head up a little.

He blinked in surprise. "R-Really?"

"Yes, you did sound stupid when you were talking," she said with a straight face.

_Ouch._ "Sorry—"

"Um, you know what, you're here for other people, aren't you?" she asked a bit sadly.

He froze. "W-W-What do you mean?" His voice cracked a little at the end. _Shit! Am I that transparent? Crap, I hope she doesn't tell her dad. Oh jeez, Ren is going to kill me and she is going to kill me and Ren's mom and dad are going to kill me and Marco is going to kill me—_

"Don't worry, I am too," she said quietly. "We're both here for other people, aren't we?"

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Wait, you're—"

"We're both here for our parents, right?" she asked.

Horohoro somehow made himself nod. "Of…course. Exactly. That's what you meant."

"A-And…it's rather obvious that neither of us really wants to be here…"

"No! I mean, no, that's not true!" He tried grinning but it came out more like a grimace.

She smiled a little in uncertainty. "O…kay…Why don't we both just leave? Our parents just said to go out. And I don't want you to be here against your will."

"I…" He sighed. "I guess…"

She stood up and they both walked out of the restaurant.

"So…um…I guess it was nice to meet you, Tamao. Have…um, a nice life." He stuck his hand out.

She shook his hand, slightly unaccustomed to such a standoffish, formal gesture for a date. "You too." She began walking away.

"And have a safe flight back to France tomorrow!" he yelled out suddenly to her. "Um, yeah."

She giggled and kept walking. However, she couldn't stop herself and she turned around to see what he was doing.

From a distance, she saw Horohoro throw his head back and then kick the ground, looking very frustrated.

She frowned, feeling genuinely sorry for him. _He probably tried his best…right?_

**commensal: (noun)** **1. a ****participant in a symbiotic relationship in which one benefits while the other is unaffected**

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, I shouldn't have messed it up _that_ badly. She probably thinks I'm a freak. I guess technically I shouldn't care because she thinks I'm Ren and she's going back to France tomorrow anyways and we'll never see each other again, but _damn_, I messed up. She looks like a nice girl. And she was pretty cute—"

"Ahem."

He turned to see the source of the cough. Instead, he came face to face with Tamao again. "Holy crap, when did you get back?" he asked, beginning to freak out. "And, uh, how much did you hear?"

"Just the part where you said I was 'pretty cute.'" She smiled, her face reddening a little.

"Eh, how embarrassing," he said, scratching his head. "Sorry about earlier by the way. I didn't really mean it."

"I know."

He suddenly lit up. "How about this? We ditch the fancy date setup, drop the formalities, and I'll show you the real Tokyo?"

She smiled, genuine happiness radiating from her. "Y-You sure you won't mind? That I'd be the only one benefiting really from this while you're relatively…unaffected."

He shrugged and grinned, finally really _seeing_ her in a dress for the first time. "Can't really say for sure who's benefiting in this deal."

**commensal: (noun)** **1. a participant in a symbiotic relationship in which one benefits while the other is unaffected****;** **2. a being that has (or can develop) the ability to act or function independently**

"You know, you're really lucky," she said suddenly as he handed her the strawberry smoothie he bought for her from the vendor in the park.

He blinked, momentarily forgetting that he was supposed to be Ren. "Really? How so? My lifestyle isn't that envy-inducing," he said, thinking of how he was backed up in rents and bills and debt.

"But you get to do what you love," she protested. "You really are lucky, Ren."

_Oh. Right. Ren._ "But you can live in comfort and convenience. You're an heiress after all! I mean, freakin' _Marco_ of the X-LAWS is your dad!"

She blinked as if he said something completely foreign to her. "I guess…but at least you aren't dependent on anyone for your happiness." They sat down on a park bench.

"Independence…does come with its perks I suppose. But one day you can probably do what you love as well," he said, sipping on his pearl tea. "And it isn't _all_ that great. I have to wear a suit and tie every single day of my life. Weekends included!" he lied through his teeth, thinking of Ren's wardrobe. _Suit, suit, suit, tie, tie, tie, dress shirt, dress shirt, dress shirt_, he repeated to himself silently as he remembered the contents of his friend's closet. He looked down at the dress shirt and slacks he had borrowed from Ren for the night. _Definitely not my first choice when it comes to apparel._

"Maybe…" she said, looking thoughtful as she drank her smoothie.

**commensal: (noun)** **1. a participant in a symbiotic relationship in which one benefits while the other is unaffected**; **2. a being that has (or can develop) the ability to act or function independently**; **3. an individual occupying the same area as another individual that has markedly different values or customs**

Horohoro wasn't hating it. He rather liked it, to be exact. He was actually enjoying it, to be exact_er_. He even threw in a few personal details about himself instead of limiting himself to being Ren for the entire night: he told her of how he played the guitar, how he had a younger sister, how he heavily preferred Hokkaido to Tokyo. And he found out so much about her as well.

Tamao was so different from him: she seemed to be so much more concerned about being happy than about money while he was tripping over himself trying to squeeze out enough money for his next rent payment; she listened more while he talked more; she wanted change to desperately happen while he was perfectly content with the way things were.

"What is that?" She looked up at the romantic architecture of the new library the city had funded a few months back, its rustic design contrasting sharply with the steel and glass modern buildings around it.

"Eh, just the new district library." He frowned up at it.

"It's so pretty!" she sighed happily.

"I guess, if you're into that…"

She was able to tear her gaze from the gigantic abandoned library and looked at him instead. "You…don't like it. Why is that?"

"I don't know. It's too different. It doesn't belong here; it sticks out like a sore thumb and—" He caught himself before he continued, realizing that the exact same thing applied to Tamao's situation.

But she continued on as if she were unaffected by his statement. "Isn't change…good sometimes though? It brings a sort of…u-unpredictable quality to life…"

He thought about how he started each day not knowing whether he'd get any money, where he'd get his next meal from, if his landlord would beat the living crap out of him, if the gas and electric company would shut his heating off in the middle of winter. And he remained silent but still strangely entranced by her simple, idealistic view of the world.

_I guess not everyone can be an heir._

"So…this is my stop," she said, fingering the key ring on her purse.

Horohoro jolted back into reality. "W-Wait, really? Already?"

She giggled. "Yeah." She smiled up at him. "Thank you so much, Ren."

He let his shoulders sag a bit. _And now she'll think that freakin' _Tao Ren_ took time out of his _ever so busy_ day to show her around the city and give her a good time._ "No problem, Tamao. I had fun anyways. Well, not the first part so much, but you know what I mean."

"Me too."

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "So…I guess it was nice to meet you, Tamao—"

"Have a nice life?" she guessed.

"You too."

She began walking away but then quickly turned around and marched back over to him.

He blinked in surprise. "Did you forget something?"

She nodded. "Yeah…" And then she hugged him.

**commensals**

"So she's really back in France already?" Horohoro asked for the tenth time.

"Yes," Ren replied, bored as ever. "Where are you, it's noisy as hell on your end of the line."

Horohoro clutched his cell phone and looked around. "Subway platform at downtown Tokyo."

"No wonder. Anyways, my parents told me that Marco's plane just touched down in Paris anyways." He heard Ren put his hand roughly over the receiver of the phone and growl something at whoever dared interrupt him. "Whatever. I have to go. Anyways, I suppose I am somewhat thankful for you covering for me with that date with Jeanne—"

Horohoro shook his head, convinced that what Ren said was a slip of the tongue. "Wait, Jeanne? You mean Tamao, right?"

At that very second, the subway train pulled away, letting the platform across of him come into view. A familiar flash of pink hair entered his field of vision. _Wait…_

"What are you blabbering about? Jeanne D'Fer is the adopted daughter of Marco. And the girl you pretended to go out with for my sake. God, Usui, your head sometimes." The line went dead as he hung up.

Tamao stood on the opposite platform, her eyes wide with recognition. He barely knew it was her, considering her hair was down and not styled, she wasn't wearing any makeup and especially because she was wearing jeans and a plain white T-shirt, so contrary to the frilly dress Marco's daughter was known for all over the world. Her face reddened though exactly as it had that one night a couple of days ago and she waved. He waved back and he knew that she recognized him as well, despite the fact he was in a ratty old t-shirt and shorts, carrying a guitar case.

* * *

"_We're both here for other people, aren't we?"_

_

* * *

_"_Tamao, please, it would mean the world to me," Jeanne pleaded, clasping her hands together._

_The pink haired girl looked at her employer, dumbfounded. She _was_ Jeanne's personal secretary and assistant and quasi-best friend for the past…she didn't even know how many years anymore but this was pretty big._

"_Let me get this straight…You want _me_ to be _you_?" Tamao asked._

"_Exactly. Just for one evening. That is all." Jeanne clasped her hands in front of her, prepared to do business._

_Tamao groaned inwardly. Whenever Jeanne was ready to get down to business, there was no hope of refusing. The Iron Maiden always got what she wanted. "What is it now…"_

"_My father, always keen on matching me up with whichever rich heir is in town when we visit, has set me up on yet another unmanageably boring date with the most arrogant, egotistical son of one of their close colleagues…who apparently are the only ones even remotely close to being as wealthy as Marco. So naturally he wants me to actually make it work out with this boy no matter what," she explained._

"_And you want me, the number one blasphemer in all things etiquette and manners related, to screw the date up so badly that it'll be beyond the point of salvaging, thus turning the poor boy off completely and giving Marco no reason to force you to go out with him again," Tamao said mechanically, not missing a beat and quite accustomed to Jeanne's line of thinking after all these years._

"_Exactly."_

_Tamao was never exactly good at saying no._

_**my**_** commensal**

And with that, the next subway train pulled into the tunnel, obscuring her from view until she stepped into the train car. She looked out the window and he looked in the window.

They both were still smiling and still recognizing another inhabitant of the streets of Tokyo, of the _real_ Tokyo when they saw one.

And then the train pulled away.

* * *

**A/N: **heavily inspired by the short film _Works of Art_ which I saw when I went to the Asian Film Festival. It was super cute! And finally, my freakin' first HoroTam since Unwritten. Yeesh. **Please leave a review!** You wonderful, smart, beautiful people. :)

Happy days!

**edit**: to clarify, i left the ending....er, open-ended to interpretation: ie: why is Tamao in Tokyo at the end of the story?--I'd like to think that she finally quit her job (she was "dependent on someone else for [her] happiness") and decided to pursue her own interests, etc. (thanks to Lycoris Calantha for pointing that muddled detail out) :D


	14. Let It Be

Pairing: Mikihisa/Keiko

Words: 3,141

* * *

"Will you play me a song?"

Mikihisa ran his hand up and down the neck of his guitar, feeling the smooth strings zip under his fingers. "What?"

The woman in front of him was crying but she still smiled and repeated her question. "Will you play me a song?"

He wasn't entirely sure how to respond. Well…for starters, this was the first time anyone had ever asked him to play. He was used to the irritated glares from the morning commuters who always thought it was much too early for anyone in their right mind to be playing the guitar or the mumbled curses of those who were trying to catch the last train home at the Ikebukuro station and had somehow managed to trip over Mikihisa who was just innocently sitting on the side of the street.

He inwardly snorted. It was never too late or too early to play the guitar. _Please_.

Interpreting his silence to be hesitation, the woman dug around in her pocket and pulled out a coin. She uncertainly rolled the edges of the small metal piece between her thumb and pointer finger before tossing it into his open guitar case. "I'm Keiko. Today, my fiancé broke up with me today…" She wiped her eyes with her free hand. "So I would…" She let out a resigned sigh. "Really appreciate it."

Mikihisa continued staring at her until he realized she was still waiting. He hastily adjusted the guitar in his lap for her before shaking his head in embarrassment. "Er…sorry. What would you like me to play?" he asked, hopefully in a way that didn't make him sound like an empty headed idiot.

Keiko's body shuddered just barely as she sharply inhaled. She cleared her throat but gave into the heaving sobs she had been holding in. "J-Just…just…anything. Please."

He nodded in understanding, knowing that it didn't matter if he mindlessly plucked out the same note over and over again or played the most technically complex piece ever composed for the guitar. She just needed something to distract her so that she could convince herself that everything was alright in the world for the duration of some bum musician's song.

He remained silent as he let his fingers strum out whatever song immediately popped into his head.

* * *

_When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom_

* * *

Mikihisa never actually asked for any of this. If he had had his way, he probably would've been too busy with his music to even consider the possibility of asking the gods for the ability to see and interact with ghosts and the supernatural realm. He never would've thought of getting mixed up with the Asakura clan and on any other day, if Keiko hadn't been dumped by her fiancé, if he had decided to pack up his guitar and go home early like he had been for the past couple of months (because in all honesty, what were the odds of someone _actually _asking him to play them a song?), he probably would've been able to have his own way. Wasting the remainder of his days in an old, crappy, rundown apartment that, with all things considered, _really_ never should've gotten the approval of the board of health and sanitation to open. Acting as mediator between George and Michel when they engaged in yet another of their stupid arguments. Playing songs on a guitar that didn't even really sound like a guitar anymore. Ignoring the spirits and ghosts that haunted the city and pretending he didn't see him because it's not like he had any need or desire to tell anyone about his unusual gift. And then dying, forgotten and alone with no wife or children.

* * *

_Let it be_

* * *

Mikihisa pressed his hands together. Yeah, that's what he had wanted. It was…simple enough. Was he really willing to turn his back on all of that? On his chance to live an uncluttered, uncomplicated life? Sure, it was ordinary enough, deplorable enough, mundane enough but at least he was _certain_ about it. Going home with Keiko, with someone who _could see ghosts like he could_, opened up a virtual universe of possibilities, of opportunities, of risks and pitfalls he wasn't even remotely prepared for.

* * *

_And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me_

* * *

He sat there, dumbly, as she let the invitation hang in the air.

* * *

_Let it be, let it be, whisper words of wisdom, let it be_

* * *

Keiko quickly learned two things when she was growing up. First, that her parents were liars. And second, that they were disappointed she was a girl.

She was pretty sure that her parents had been lying to her for the better part of her childhood. Whenever she tried telling them that _other_ _people_ couldn't see ghosts (oh, why oh why, couldn't she be like _other people_?), they would abruptly brush her off and tell her she was being foolish. And for a time, believe it or not, she was okay with that. She was fine with their answer because none of it really, _really_ mattered to her…

Yet.

The spirits were pleasant enough (at least, the ones near the place she had grown up in). They made for nice and sometimes even enjoyable conversation. They told her if the weather outside was particularly nasty or if her parents were angrily waiting for her at home when they found out she was an hour late to dinner. She didn't have any contact with people outside of her parents' huge residence so the ghosts kept her company.

But when she arrived in the middle of Tokyo, wide eyed and unprepared for city life, she realized that not only was she _not_ like _other people_.

She realized that she wasn't normal.

Keiko didn't reveal her ability to see spirits and interact with the supernatural to anyone but she quickly learned that people who claimed that they could talk to ghosts were ostracized and quietly smothered out of society.

* * *

_And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree there will be an answer_

* * *

Every day on her way to the office where she worked as a receptionist, she passed by a psychiatric hospital that the school kids on her train laughingly called the loony bin. Once a group of patients from the hospital were taking a day trip and stood on the same platform as her. As a couple of the patients became restless and complaining about voices in their heads, businessmen and women disgustingly moved closer to the edge of the waiting area so that they wouldn't have to interact with any of them. A small girl with dark wide eyes raised her finger to point at something behind Keiko. When the girl's nurse quickly slapped her pointing hand down and reprimanded her patient for being rude, Keiko slowly turned around and saw that there was a ghost.

The only thing separating her from that group was that the patients were braver to speak up when they saw spirits and heard voices.

* * *

_Let it be_

* * *

When Mikihisa was younger, the boys in his neighborhood used to go to the local cemetery and kick over memorial tablets and steal the offerings left there. He was often invited since the boys considered him to be their friend but he usually declined, saying that he needed to practice the guitar.

However, once they shrugged and ran off, saying that it was his loss, Mikihisa could barely concentrate on playing and would watch the boys desecrate the tombs from his window. He always wanted to tell them that destroying and disrespecting the deceased like that was hardly fun or cool but he knew that if he spoke up, then they would start on him. The daughter of the groundskeeper was around their age and she would emerge whenever she heard the laughs of the boys to chase them out of the cemetery, screaming that they would upset the ghosts there. The boys would then throw broken bits of memorial tablets and parts of the burial mounds they had managed to dig up at her while pulling her hair, yelling back that there were no such things at ghosts, that the bodies in the ground were only good enough for fertilizer.

It would be only after Mikihisa's eleventh birthday that he finally ventured outside to follow the boys to the cemetery and only after his twelfth birthday that he had to get a new guitar since he broke his old one over the head of the loudest, rudest boy.

* * *

_For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see_

* * *

Though her parents tried convincing her that they were happy that she was their daughter, when she began getting older, it became harder and harder for Yohmei and Kino to mask their disappointment that they had failed to produce a son to be the heir of the family.

Once, Keiko had been stupid enough to ask during dinner why _she_ couldn't be the heir of the family, because even if she was a girl, she was still their child…right? Kino had slammed her fist down on the table and stormed out of the room. When Keiko looked to her father for an explanation for her mother's behavior, he simply turned away from her and shook his head, closing his eyes in exasperation.

When she finally reached her twenties and she was about to leave for Tokyo, Kino and Yohmei began reminding her several times a day that she had to find a suitable husband so that she could produce an heir for them. For the first few years she was in the city, she scoured every street, every shop, every office building for a potential man to bring home to her parents so that they would finally be proud of her for once.

She was about to give up all hope when she bumped into a man who would later become her fiancé. She immediately fell for him. He was perfect, he was vibrant and beautiful like the city, kind and bold and a thoroughly modern man. The last bit Keiko was a little unsure about. Sure, she was all for the modern age but she had grown accustomed to rather liking a little tradition in her life. But she was young, in love, and very much wide eyed when he swept her off her feet, promises of happily forever afters and adventure ringing resoundingly in her ears and she mistook his disdain for the traditional old ways of doing things for progressiveness. She was so happy and so proud that she found someone so in the moment who would rather be out in the world _living_ than going through stodgy formality after stodgy formality to honor some deceased relative that he had never met.

Keiko never once gave her relationship a second thought until after they had announced their engagement to all their friends and family and it was the week before she was supposed to bring him home to meet her parents. They had been eating dinner and she began clearing away the plates as her fiancé started reading the newspaper. She hummed to herself as she washed the dishes and heard her fiancé snort derisively after reading that the city was planning on cutting funding to the psychiatric ward, agreeing wholeheartedly and proposing that, hey, why not just level the cemetery so that more office buildings could be built there?

She nearly dropped the plates on the floor but remained silent as she retreated to her room, barely reacting when she found a wandering spirit when she opened the door. The ghost dryly asked her why she was marrying such a disrespectful jerk who didn't care about his ancestors and obviously looked down on the mentally ill. She simply ordered the spirit to leave but it still went on, floating lazily about the room. It wondered out loud how her fiancé would react if he found out that she could see ghosts. She didn't hear footsteps approaching when she calmly said that she had no intention of telling him that she could see and talk to spirits.

Her fiancé opened the door, asking her who she was talking to but then cut himself off. She could…see…spirits?

Only when she was three blocks away from her house and headed in the direction of the Ikebukuro station did she realize that she hadn't brought any money except for a ten yen coin and the only person in sight was a man sitting cross legged with a guitar underneath a street lamp.

* * *

_And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me, shine until tomorrow_

* * *

At first, Mikihisa thought that he had dreamed it. He was still years and years off from knowing who Hao was or what being a shaman entailed but he knew that he was going to end up marrying the woman, Keiko, from his dream.

The only thing was, it wasn't a dream.

He blearily blinked and blindly searched for his glasses on his night table. Except there was no night table. His eyes shot open and he sat straight up to find himself on a couch that _wasn't his_ in a room that _wasn't his_, undoubtedly in a house that _wasn't his_.

And then as an afterthought, he found it quite sad that the couch he was on was _much_ more comfortable than his bed back in the apartment.

Mikihisa cautiously stepped down from the couch and realized that he felt much cleaner than he had in a very long, long time (for one thing, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt the real texture of his hair without all those layers of grease and grime) and that he was wearing pajamas that didn't belong to him. He looked around the room, panic beginning to mount within him until his eyes rested on the clothes he had been wearing the day earlier. They had been washed, dried, and pressed neatly and were on a table next to his guitar which looked polished and clean for once.

* * *

_I wake up to the sound of music_

* * *

"Oh! You're awake. I hope you slept well," came a cheerful voice.

He whirled around to see Keiko in the same receptionist uniform she had been wearing the day prior, holding a tray with food on it. "You're…real."

She smiled a little uncertainly, not sure what to make of his statement.

He shook his head hurriedly. "I'm…I'm sorry. I just thought that everything that happened last night was a dream." His voice grew noticeably more distracted as he realized that there was entirely separate hallway behind Keiko and it seemed endless as doors lined the walls. The size of the entire residence began to dawn on him. "This…This room is bigger than my entire apartment," he said in awe.

She nodded smilingly. "Yes, it is rather large for a house in Tokyo. It gets rather lonely sometimes." She set the tray of food down on the table in front of him. "I hope you don't mind but I made you breakfast." She began transferring all the food from the tray to the table.

"I don't think I can marry you."

She froze, her hand still clamped around the glass of orange juice. "W-What?" she asked, her voice cracking a little.

"You're so nice and so rich and I'm…a bum," he explained, seriousness etched into his face.

She straightened up abruptly. "M-Marry? I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea but we…we just met…" she stuttered.

"Ah, but you see we _are_ going to get married," he said, holding up a finger.

Keiko blinked. "How do you know?" she asked, more intrigued than creeped out.

Mikihisa simply shrugged. "Gut feeling."

Her fiancé had been a very rational man, refusing to say anything unless it was based on facts and figures and numbers. The phrase _gut feeling_ was probably nowhere to be found in his vocabulary.

She knew that the _rational_ thing to do was to tell this stranger who apparently thought they were going to get married to get out of her house (and then change all the locks on her doors) and…and…and, oh gods, what would her _parents_ say if she were insane enough to introduce Mikihisa to them?

But then as the two of them stared at each other, Keiko began to realize something. She had spent her entire life being what her parents wanted her to be: a disappointment to the family, a dutiful daughter, an object to be married off to produce sons. So maybe…this…just this _one_ time…maybe she should just stop worrying and…

…Just let it be.

"Say, how do you feel about cemeteries?"

* * *

_Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom_

* * *

"So...everything is alright with the world?" Mikihisa asked for the eleventh time.

"Surprisingly, yes," Keiko responded rather dryly.

"How boring. Ever since the Shaman Fight, everything has been quiet." He studied his wife before speaking again. "Keiko...don't tell me you're still mad."

She simply glared at him.

"Keiko, it was an _accident_."

She closed her eyes and counted to three. "Yes, I know it was an accident because that's what all the papers said!" she exclaimed, pointing to the various newspaper articles still strewn about and untouched on the table that read: _Unidentified Man Dies in Car Crash_.

"It's not like I _wanted_ to die!" Mikihisa exclaimed.

"We have a beautiful son who has an equally beautiful wife—"

"_Fiancée_," Mikihisa mindlessly corrected.

Keiko stared him down. "And you just decide to go and die!" she huffed at her husband's ghost. "On your way home from pachinko! How undignified. I never liked it when you played pachinko. Gambling is so foolish and a waste of money. How could you die in a _car crash_? Don't tell me you were drinking again!" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Anyways, why are you still hanging around here? Shouldn't you be in the Great Spirit by now with all the others who have died and moved on? Like Faust and Eliza." She sighed. "Faust and Eliza. I always liked them. Such a shame."

"To be honest, I still don't know why I'm here."

She drew her eyebrows together. "What do you mean you don't know?"

He looked away, clearly embarrassed. "I think...I think I'm still in shock that I died in such a lame way." He scratched the back of his head. "A car crash. A _car crash_! Of all things!"

Keiko turned around so that he couldn't see her smile and laugh a little, her voice carrying away and upwards, above everything and everyone as she let go of her hatred, of her fear and anxiety.

* * *

_Let it be_

* * *

**A/N**: So I was getting super impatient because Takei is probably never ever going to write the next chapter of _Flowers_, what with _Ultimo _and _Jumbor_ so I was going through all the SK extras and I came across two chapters that I had never read before. They were called _Miki's World_ and explained how Mikihisa and Keiko met and I absolutely _loved them _and I loved how Mikihisa idolized John Lennon and how he automatically assumed he was going to marry Keiko and how straightforward she was when talking about her supernatural powers...needless to say, I got _super_ inspired. So...you guys get...this. SURPRISE. Also, I love John Lennon. Obviously I don't own the lyrics.

Anyways, I'm working on the next chapter of Critical Condition and two new one-shots, _Whatever Works_ and _Beautiful Hangover_. Yeah. Oh and check out some other one-shots I posted recently: _Fix You_ (Yoh/Anna), _It's a Girl Thing_ (Yoh/Anna), and _No Matter_ (Ren/Pirika).

**I would really, really, _really_ appreciate it/love you forever if you left a review! **Since Miki/Keiko always needs more love (it's sad that they're not popular in the fandom since...WITHOUT THEM, YOH NEVER WOULD HAVE BEEN BORN AND SK NEVER WOULD'VE HAPPENED! dun dun duuuuun). So yes, **please remember to leave a review!** and check out my LJ.

Happy days!


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